A Thousand Years
by blank canvas of me
Summary: When ten year old Percy Jackson runs away from his foster home, he accidently stumbles across a girl named Annabeth. When she leads him back to her house, he's rescued by her father Fredrick, and joins Annabeth as her adoptive brother. As the years go on, what starts out as a friendship turns to something more. A story about life, love, and everything in between. AU, Percabeth.
1. Prologue

**A Thousand Years:**

**Prologue: **

A lot of things weren't planned in Percy Jackson's life.

His mother's death, for instance. He certainly never planned that. In actuality, he never saw it coming. One day she was breathing, then the next minute she was on the ground, eyes glazed over and dim. He didn't know what had happened, nor did he know what a dead person looked like, and was glad. Instead, he saw his dead mother in his nightmares, his alive one in dreams, hopes, and wishes. She never came back, no matter what the plea. The bargain that went seemingly unheard of.

His stupid social worker said it was only natural for him to be in denial.

He wasn't in denial. Percy got it. His mom was never going to wake up again, never ruffle his hair and plant a firm kiss to his cheek. He watched her coffin slowly become lowered into the ground. His green eyes took in everything. How shiny the brown coffin was, and how three roses rested on top of it. One pink, (the social worker) one red (his mother's only friend from the diner) and one blue. Percy's rose. It was his mother's favorite color. Beside them was her necklace, a green emerald in the middle of the silver. Before it could completely disappear into the dirt, he had snatched it off it and cradled it closely. At least one piece of his mother wouldn't be buried. No one had tried to stop him.

"No other family," a women had said. "An orphan," others had proclaimed, pity laced in their hushed voices. "Foster system." "Trouble maker." "Hard life." Such sentences were consisted in whispered tones whenever the green-eyed boy was around them.

At the age of nine, Percy had decided he hated pity.

When Percy turned ten, more things happened that he never considered.

He ended up moving to a foster home. He heard all the adults saying in countlessly, but couldn't bring himself to image himself living anywhere other than with his mother. It happened anyways, with his reluctance or not. "That or the streets," his social worker stated, trying to make him feel more optimistic. "Which is better?"

He tried to like his foster parents and siblings. He really did, but he ended up detesting them. The father did weird things to his foster sisters, something that Percy was sure his mother wouldn't approve of if she was still alive.

He never planned on running away. It just happened on an impulse after a punch to his jaw had been sent his way. After the initial shock had dispatched, he ran up to his room, curled up into a ball under his bed (his 'safe place') and had cried. His lip was bleeding; he could taste the blood welling up with his tongue. His eye was black and blue. He wanted his mother. That wasn't the first time, and it would never be the last.

"_That or the streets. Which is better?"_

She said it in the hopes that he would climb from the backseat of the car.

He was only considering her question now. Surely here was better than the streets.

Right?

..._Right_?

So, with trembling, nervous hands, he packed a small duffle bag full of appropriate clothes. Percy snuck down to the kitchen while his faster father was sleeping (passed out drunk; beer bottle still clad in hand) and made himself a peanut-butter sandwich. He even cut off the crust to the best of his ability, just like his mom used to do.

And then he left.

He disappeared into the night, like a stealthy shadow, ignoring his fear about how frightened he was of the dark.

He walked down the side-walks until he reached a playground, then fell asleep in one of the slides. He ate his sandwich the next morning. Lost and uncertain, wandering down the dark streets of New York City, he began to finally learn how cruel the world was. And once he knew, there was no regaining his innocence.

A month later, full of thievery, pick-pocketing, grimy, ravaged clothes, he finally saw a dead-not-really-dead person for the first time.

She had golden hair, spiraled like a princesses.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm sure most of you have read "A Trouble Boy with Green Eyes." If you haven't, GO! READ IT! It's amazing. Anyways, multiple people have attempted a similar story line. Percy-is-an-orphan-and-the-Chase-family-adopts-him, etc. I want to try that out too, but I want it to drastically differ from all the others. Hopefully I achieved that. It's probably not the best idea to start a story when I have so many that I need to complete, but I'm going to go for it. Reviews, follows, and favorites are always appreciated. Tell me what you think of it! It's shortness is due to it's prologue-ness. :)**


	2. Chapter One

**A Thousand Years:**

**Chapter One: **

"Are you dead?"

The girl's eyelids did not flutter. She did not even startle. Her hands were near her sides, folded on her flat stomach. Curls haloed her thin cheeks and narrow neck. Her skin wasn't pale, but tan from the sun. Percy veered closer, uncertain of what to do or how to react. Before Percy could stop himself, his hand touched her hair. His fingers pulled on her golden hair gingerly, and it bounced back. Her body was lifeless, eyes shut, thin lips half ajar. With a shaking hand, his hand touched her cheek. It was warm and sweaty, not cold and waxy. In fact, she didn't look dead at all. Percy blinked rapidly in confusion, drawing his hand back.

She was as still as the trees.

"My name is Percy," he stated dubiously, the words foreign on his tongue. "Percy Jackson. I ran away from home a few months ago. It wasn't my real home- it was a foster one. The kind where orphans go. I'm an orphan. My mom was the best person in the world, but she died. The doctors told me that she had a heart attack. I went to her funeral and took her necklace. It's silver with an emerald in the middle. I could pawn it, but I'm scared to. What's your name?" His sentences didn't match up. They were quick and fast paced, an attempt to calm himself down. He thought he saw the corner of her lip twitched, but when he glanced back, the girl was a statue again. "No-name, huh? I could name you. Maybe Amanda or Lily. Patricia? No. Those are stupid names. You deserve a good one." Percy dug his hand into the ground, grabbing a few stones and throwing them in the creek beside the lifeless girl. His brain wracked for good names. His old foster sister's name was Bethany. She was the only one that had ever been remotely kind to Percy, although she always stunk like a stunk. Pot, his foster brother called it. "How about Bethany? I like that one."

A muscle in her jaw jumped.

Percy yelped, tumbling backwards. "Y-ou," he spluttered, "You just moved!"

To his horror she sat up, laughing hysterically. "Man, you're stupid," she burst into fits of giggles, raking a hand through the top of her messy hair. Percy blinked, dumbfounded, as her grey eyes met his. They were light and vibrant, like the grey you'd see on a sparkling stone near a cleansed lake. "You must take a bottle of stupid pills every day."

"Y-you're dead," his voice sounded hoarse. He was still on the ground, jeans covered in dirt. "You're supposed to be dead."

Annabeth cocked her head to the side, curls following and expression thoughtful. "I am?"

"A-are you a ghost?"

She closed her eyes, suddenly looking haunted. "Say 'my name is Percy Jackson.'"

Color draining from his face, he repeated in a wavering tone, "My name is Percy Jackson."

"I'm an orphan."

"I'm an orphan."

"I have my mother's necklace."

"I have my mother's necklace."

Annabeth's eyes peeled open, grinning at him. She brushed the specks of dirt that had rested on her jeans away, yellow cardigan matching the bright sun above. "I'm not dead, dummy."

He gawked at her, mesmerized, but not completely convinced. His mom used to let him watch scary movies before bedtime. Spectators were said to trick people. "Then what were you doing in the dirt? Sleeping?"

She shrugged, blonde curls bouncing. "No. I just do that sometimes. Play dead. You ever teach your dog to?"

Percy shook his head as she departed from the creek, following close on her heels. This had been the first non ill-harming human interaction he had in over the course of four weeks. "Never had a dog." The apartment was too cramped for one, and there were rules against animals.

She cracked another smile, flashing white, crooked teeth. "Me either. I'm Annabeth. You were close with that Bethany name, though. And you're Percy. An orphan. Your mother died. You ran away."

Percy's cheeks flushed with humiliation. "Why didn't you sit up sooner?"

She was all smiles and laughs, sun shining through the green giants above. Percy had been camping here for a while, especially since it was the beginning of summer. The breeze was warm, and although he could hear the bustling cars and horns of New York City, he could manage to catch little glimpses of the stars above. "What would the point of that be?" Her nose suddenly crinkled and she gave him a once over, taking in his tattered clothes and grimy hair. "Man, you stink."

Blushing further, Percy looked down at his feet sheepishly. "Sorry."

"'S'okay. One time, my friend Thalia had track. She stunk afterwards- even worse than you do now. Thalia's fourteen. She's a _teenager_." The last word was spoken with such emphasis and admiration, the statement even impressed Percy. A teenager.

"You're friends with a big kid?"

Annabeth's smirk turned pleased and smug, her expression littered with glimpses of pride. "Yep. Best friends."

"Wow."

"Wow," Annabeth echoed, while Percy's gaze turned star-struck. Before they knew it, the pair were at the edge of the small woods next to the park. "You want to come play?"

"Play?" The word was an odd whisper, his voice still dry from lack of fresh water. He had been taking little sips of the creek water, but one time he drank too much and threw up all over the place.

"Yeah," she said in a 'duh' tone. "Come over to my house. I can show you my toys. I have wooden swords in my bedroom. You can meet Thalia."

Percy was too nervous of the girl's reaction to say no.

Begrudgingly, he followed Annabeth out of the park and into the crowded streets.

. . .

It was a house, which surprised Percy. There were not many actual houses in New York City, mostly just tall buildings and skyscrapers. It breathed the warm feeling of home, a light shade of white, gutters red. There was a small playground to the side of the doorway, and a modern driveway. Two cars were parked near the garage. A blue mini-van, and a small red one that only appeared to seat only four people. Annabeth carried a small bag, and it bounced off her hip with every bounding step. He was tempted to ask what was in it, a curl of paper flashing from the top, but chose to keep his mouth shut. He had offended her three times already with questions. Annabeth was his first almost-friend. He didn't want to jeopardize that, or even lose it altogether.

"Your house is nice," Percy claimed with a strained smile. A lot nicer than his apartment had been, and the house (prison) he had escaped from. He marveled in the bright relaxed feeling that radiated from it, and tried not to feel bitter. It wasn't Annabeth's fault that she had parents and friends. It wasn't his fault that he didn't. It just was what it was. He followed her obediently along the pathway, feeling a little like a lost puppy, then up to the porch. She turned slightly, sending him a grin that made his stomach go all weird.

"Thank you, Perce. Can I call you Perce?"

"No."

"Perce it is." She reached up and ruffled his hair, then recoiled in disgust. "Is your hair made of pure dirt?" When he didn't answer, due to an overwhelming feeling of embarrassment, Annabeth shrugged. "That's okay. You can take a bath when we get inside." Her eyes suddenly brightened, something that they did often. "And maybe I can ask my mom for you to stay for dinner. We're having pizza."

Eagerly, Percy nodded and followed Annabeth inside. The house was warm, bright, and glowing. Much like Annabeth's personality. Maybe he was over exaggerating the feeling of purity that swelled within him on entry, since this was the first actual shelter he had been in that had a roof and air-conditioning. Annabeth called an obnoxious 'I'm home' and threw her bag off, dumping it randomly on a dining room chair. She slipped off her shoes, then beckoned for Percy to do the same. He slid his falling apart and worn down sneakers off, gently picking them up and leaving them next to Annabeth's prim, grey boots, the color matching the shade of her eyes.

"Annabeth," a masculine voice said from the kitchen, causing Percy to flinch. "I told you to be back by four o' clock, missy."

She giggled then, as a male came into the room and tugged on the edges of her curls, much like Percy had done when he assumed she was deceased. Glasses were resting on the bridge of his nose, eyes differing from Annabeth's. Instead of a bright grey, they were an aqua blue. She shot a look at Percy, the corners of her lips pulling upward. "Sorry, dad. I brought home a friend."

Annabeth's father's gaze shifted away from his daughter's, then landed on Percy's. Instantly, he blanched, playing with the holes in his sweaters nervously. To his shock, he approached him and leaned down so they were at eye-level. "What's your name, son?"

"P-percy," he stammered.

"Well, Percy, I'm Fredrick. You already know my daughter, Annabeth."

Percy nodded silently, taking a sudden interest in the floor. He couldn't help it; he was anxious, nervous, and frightened. His father had left him when he was little, and the next man that was supposed to be his role-model abused him. Toying with his sleeves, he cringed, awaiting a hit or a lecture. None came, and his green eyes finally met Fredrick's. "Hello." At least his voice didn't sound like a strangled cat. It sounded quiet, and wavered a little on the l's, but no one seemed to mind.

"He's an orphan," Annabeth chimed in, voice indifferent. "Ran away from the orphanage."

"Foster home," Percy corrected in a low voice. Annabeth stuck her tongue out of him, to which he hesitantly returned.

Fredrick suddenly looked solemn and stood, his expression thoughtful and troublesome. "What foster home? Do you know who your foster parents were?"

The color drained further from the ten-year-old's cheeks. Were they going to send him back there? "U-um, I-I-"

Annabeth cut in, "He doesn't want to go back, daddy. He didn't like it there."

Fredrick forced a smile, bright eyes false. His hand came up to his chin, eyebrows drawn together. "And how long have you been on the streets, Percy?"

He settled with a blunt and vague 'a while.'

"Like pizza?" Percy smiled again, hands subconsciously dipping down to his shrunken stomach. Fredrick's eyes followed Percy's hand movements, mouth twisting into a tight line. Still looking conflicted, Fredrick pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. A small breath of air escaped through his lips, almost like a huff of defeat. He turned towards his daughter, who stared back without wavering. "Annabeth, why don't you show Percy the bathroom? I'm sure he'd like a bath." Annabeth glared as her hopes to play sword-fight with Percy diminished. "You can play later."

"Fine, dad. C'mon, Perce."

Stonily, Percy padded down the hallway in the direction his friend had gone. He stole a glance over his shoulder, to see Fredrick smiling at the departing form of the boy. Unintentionally, Percy grinned back. When he realized what he had done, he frowned, lips falling in puzzlement. "Annabeth?"

"Yes?"

"Does your dad know you play dead?" Percy didn't know what normal kids did. Surely acting like a dead body wasn't something most children did in their spare time.

Her figure froze as she reached up to grab a white towel from the cupboard. "No. I'd prefer if it stayed that way."

"Okay. I won't tell."

Her stiffness disappeared at his words. She tossed him a towel, which he dropped. "Butter fingers."

Percy scowled.

She laughed, which made Percy crack a smile. She leaned down and turned on the tap. She twisted it to warm, letting her fingers dunk underneath the splashing water. After deciding it was the perfect temperature, she nodded her head in approval. Annabeth pointed towards the shampoo, the bars of soap, and then to the towel. Her blonde hair danced with every motion, much to Percy's appeal. She had pretty hair, in his opinion. It was more entertaining than beautiful, thick and bouncy. "You know how to take a bath, right?"

To address this point, he began to undress.

"EW!" Annabeth squealed, slapping his arms to stop his movements. "Not while I'm in the bathroom, dummy."

"Oh."

Annabeth closed the door part-way, peaking her head in once more. "I'll bring you some fresh clothes and leave them outside the door. They might be a little big on you."

"That's okay."

What he wouldn't give for some fresh clothes.

Bathing took a total of one hour, because he really wasn't that good at hygiene. Even when the option was provided to him, he was never the best at washing himself. When was the last time he bathed, anyway? One month? Two? He couldn't remember. The days blended together. He stole from bakeries. He perfected pick-pocketing. He survived. He scrubbed harshly, so roughly that his skin burned a red once the dirt released from the skin. He washed his hair, raking his hands through the tangled tufts. Soap splashed in his eyes, but the stinging felt peculiarly...good. Nice, even. It reminded him of his mother, and that made him happy. It also told him that he was getting clean. With actual soap rather than chilling creek water. He rinsed thoroughly so he wasn't dirty anymore. When he climbed out, droplets of water soaking the rug below, the bath water was brown instead of clear. He shivered, wrapping a towel around his shoulders.

He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror.

His hair wasn't brown anymore, (from the dirt) it was black and ebony-colored . He stood horizontally, eyeing his obtuse ribs with wonder. He hadn't realized how skeletal he truly had gotten. The idea of pizza motivated him, and he grabbed the clothes that Annabeth had left, changing quickly. In puzzlement, he stared at the clothing once dressed. They were nearly his size, but slightly baggier like Annabeth had promised. Did Annabeth have a brother? She never mentioned him, if so.

When he exited the bathroom, Annabeth was impatiently waiting on a chair. "Percy! What took so long? Did you drown?"

He frowned. Were friends supposed to be this annoying?

She looked at his clothes. "You look nice in 'em."

"Whose clothes are these?"

"My brother's," she replied. "His name was Malcolm. He died a year ago."

He suddenly felt very uncomfortable. For the fact that he was wearing her dead brother's clothes, and how _casual_ she had said the words. Like she wasn't bothered by it. Like it hadn't happened at all, or she didn't care. If it wasn't for how her eyes dangerously flashed, he would've suspected that Malcolm's death hadn't affected her whatsoever. "Should I take them off...?"

"No, no. If my dad didn't want you to wear them, he wouldn't have given them to you. It's only temporary, anyways. We're going dress shopping tomorrow."

Percy's eyebrows crinkled. "Tomorrow?"

"Sure." She stretched, hands falling near her neck. "My dad and mom said it was okay to have a sleep over." Percy gripped his mother's necklace in the jean pocket tightly. This was all very overwhelming and his stomach was growling hysterically. "Wanna go get pizza now? My mom picked it up before coming home. She can't wait to meet you."

It took all of Percy's willpower not to go sprinting into the kitchen.

Grabbing Percy's wrist, Annabeth pulled him along her house. "You're sleeping in my room," she giggled gleefully. "We can watch movies and read books and play pretend..."

Her ideas droned on.

They rounded the corner.

_"His clothes?"_

_"Yes, Athena. He's wearing his clothes."_

_"Fredrick."_

_"Dear."_

_"I-I'm just not ready."_

_"We're not replacing Malcolm. We're helping a child in need. Surely he would feel the same way about this."_

_"Well, you could've consulted me first about this!"_

_"And what? Told the poor boy to go naked because we couldn't spare an outfit that isn't being worn?"_

Annabeth rolled her eyes at the escalating argument, sending Percy a 'parents. What are you gonnna do?' look, before guiding him to the table. Conversation between the two adults ceased. Percy stared at Annabeth's mother anxiously, knowing her discomfort with him borrowing her old son's clothes. Annabeth didn't hold much resemblance to her father besides a few facial features, but Athena looked much like her. She had blonde hair, a little shorter than Annabeth's, cutting off at the chin, all in ringlets. Her grey eyes were bleaker than her daughter's, more serious and superior. She gave the boy a once-over quickly, before pulling on a smile.

Percy knew it was strained.

"Hello, honey." Her sugary words were as fake as her smile, but Percy chose not to mention it.

"Hi."

"This is Percy," Annabeth announced to Athena brightly. "He's an orphan, his mother's dead, and he ran away from his foster-home. He's been living on the street for a while."

Quite an introduction, the ten-year-old thought in displeasure.

Annabeth grabbed a sausage and peperoni pizza slice, slamming the greasy food down on a paper plate. She piled on another one before handing it gingerly to her guest. Percy's eyes widened at the content, willing himself not to start drooling.

"I'm sorry we don't have a healthier meal prepared," Athena apologized taking a sip of her water. She appeared as cautious as Percy felt. "If I had known, I would've made you a home cooked meal. Maybe another day."

"This is great. Thank you, Mrs. Chase."

The corner of Annabeth's mother's lips pulled up, this time genuine. "You're very welcome." She sent a reprimanding, yet pleased look towards her daughter. "You see, Annabeth, even your friend knows manners."

Annabeth sent her mother a scorned look, patronized. "Yeah, yeah, mom. Please and thank you and all that junk. Can I eat now?"

Fredrick smothered a chuckle while Athena shook her head in disbelief. "I swear, Thalia is teaching you more and more every day."

Annabeth shrugged, taking a bite out of her pizza. Percy sat, disgruntled, wondering if he should ask permission to eat or not. He had never been over to a friend's house before, so he didn't exactly know the specifics. His grip around his mother's necklace tightened. Should he ask? Thankfully, he didn't even have to open his mouth. Annabeth nudged his shoulder with her bony elbow, beckoning for him to eat.

So he did.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Not much of an ending, but I wanted to get this out ASAP. I got the idea of Percy finding Annabeth dead-but-not-really-dead from the book Eggs, which is my favorite child-hood book. EVER. I read that all the time when I was a kid. Anyways, thank you so much for all the reviews, follows, and favorites. I'm glad you all enjoyed it so far. Hopefully my next update will be good. Feel free to drop in a review! :)**


	3. Chapter Two

**A Thousand Years**:

**Chapter Two: **

Percy felt rather implemented from all of this. It was overwhelming and caused his stomachs to jut up in nervous flip-flops whenever Annabeth's parent's were around. Their language mostly consisted of whispers and wary stares, but Annabeth's excitement replaced most of the boy's anxiety. She was completely happy he was around, and now at all put out by his appearance. Percy just didn't want Fredrick and Athena to think he was some kind of free-loader, or if he was a black-haired leech, sucking food and luxuries from them. Then there was the matter of Malcolm Chase's death, and the fact that he was wearing his clothes didn't help. He could tell Athena wasn't comfortable with watching him parade around in her deceased son's clothes, and he wasn't either. He knew what it was like. He wouldn't want anybody to wear his mother's dresses, no matter what the circumstance.

The deadpoint was, he felt grateful, but he didn't know how to show it. He said 'please' and 'thank you' whenever he could, which flattered Athena, but Percy didn't feel that was enough. They had no idea how much they had helped him. He was on the brink of starvation, (whether his childlike brain admitted that or not) and those four slices of pizza had rescued him. Annabeth had saved him. Fredrick granted him life. They all did, and the boy didn't know how to make it up to them.

He rolled around on the comfortable bed. It was too soft, too feathery, and too gentle. He was so used to sleeping on the hard gravel, listening to the sound of the city ringing in his ears and the hum of rushing water against gravel. Underneath all the pink-colored blankets, he could scarcely hear anything. If he strained his ears enough, however, he could manage to make out the small breaths of his friend sleeping on a sleeping-bag next to him. That was another thing he felt guilty for. Annabeth had insisted upon sleeping on the floor, but that didn't lessen anything. Percy never wanted to deprive the girl of her own bed.

Tears filled his eyes. It was just all too much. Everything starting from his mother's death and leading up to now. At least when he was alone he could pretend he was okay, and his mother was still breathing, but surrounded by people served as a constant reminder. Despite his muffled sobs, her breathing relaxed him, and eventually lulled him to the brink of unconsciousness.

There was suddenly a creak. Percy's eyes slowly peeled open, glancing at the small ray of light shining into Annabeth's bedroom. The grey walls could be seen now, along with Annabeth's cartons of toys and posters of famous monuments. Fredrick poked his head in, glasses reflecting the yellow light outside her bedroom. Percy stared back with wide, green eyes, perplexed. Fredrick gestured for him to follow him, pulling a finger to his lips. Percy stole a lingering glance at Annabeth. She did not stir, and was as motionless as she had been in the woods. In fact, she appeared dead to him now. The idea unsettled him, and Percy found himself clenching onto his mother's necklace for more composure. With another airy breath, sat up. He tiptoed around the rug where Annabeth slept, dodging her long river of blonde curls that were spread out around the floor, and stepped into the hallway. What did he want? Was he going to kick him out? Hurt him? The possibilities were endless in the child's eyes.

"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

Percy shook his head. "No, sir." Evidently, he had, but Percy was far too shy to admit to that.

"Enough of that sir, Percy. Call me Fredrick."

Another nod.

There was a silence.

"You hungry?"

Percy's head snapped up. "Yes, sir- Fredrick."

He had already wolfed down four pieces of pizza, a bucket of carrots and celery sticks, and two glasses of pink lemonade. When he moved onto his third brownie, that was when Athena deprived him, laughing gently. She explained that she didn't want him to get sick. If he kept down his dinner until morning, then she'd make him a special breakfast of bacon and eggs. Percy kept his word, but his stomach retracted and gurgled with nausea in every movement. They both walked down the stairs, a small thump with every step.

"I really shouldn't," he admitted sheepishly. "But as long as we don't tell Athena, everything should be fine." Fredrick opened the refrigerator, sliding out some bread. He grabbed lunch meat to go along with it. "Mustard or ketchup?"

"Mustard, please."

He sloppily made him a sandwich. He didn't cut off the crusts like Percy's mother used to, but that led him to come to the conclusion that it must've been a mom thing rather than a dad thing. And Percy never had a dad. Well, he did, but the memories all blurred together. He could scarcely recall what his own father looked like, let alone whether or not he sliced the crust neatly off.

"We need to talk, Percy."

Percy bit into his sandwich, taking a hesitant seat next to Fredrick at the dining table. Would he kick him out? Would he beat him like his last father? Or would he leave, just like the first?

"It's nothing serious," he quickly stated, seeing Percy's fear swimming in his eyes. "I just need an idea of what to do. What Athena and I are doing right now, it's illegal."

Percy blinked, confusion settling in. "Illegal?"

"Well, not quite illegal yet, but it could be if we don't handle this situation cautiously. This isn't your fault, but technically, your legal guardian is still your old foster father."

Percy's blood froze. He began to stammer and breath heavily, tears flooding through his green eyes and finally spilling over. "No! You can't! Please, don't-"

Two firm hands were planted on his shoulder. "It's okay. We're not sending you back there."

He sniffled, wiping his nose. "You aren't?"

"Of course not. What I need to know is who he is and what your old address is."

"W-why?" Was he tricking him? Percy didn't like tricks. Wasn't the trick his mother pulled on him enough?

"To notify them that we will be adopting you."

. . .

For the first time in ages, Percy slept in a bed.

He awoke once more with light shining on him, only this time, through the window. It flashed across his closed eyelids. Opening them from the light strain, he yawned, stretching his legs and arms. For a moment, he couldn't decipher where he was. The room was warm, there was a large pink blanket around his torso, and he wasn't resting on the ground, but on a mattress. When he spotted the grey walls, everything came flashing back to him. Fredrick, Annabeth, Athena...adoption. His lips twisted upward. They were going to adopt him. He could sleep like this every day. Annabeth would be his sister. Fredrick would be his dad.

Athena would be his new mom.

That was the only part that discouraged him. It wasn't that he disliked her, much the opposite actually, but no one could take the place of his mother. He never had a father, so he couldn't see any resentment towards Fredrick. No one could be his mom again, not even Athena. She could be his friend, she could take care of him, but no one could take the place of Sally Jackson. Surely she already knew that. Tiredly, he stole a glance at the clock. It was near noon, Annabeth's place missing from her sleeping bag. Sitting upward, he could distinctively smell bacon...

Jolting upward faster than possible, he skidded towards the doorway and down the stairs, not bothering to fix his mess of hair.

Annabeth was seated at the table, her fork making shapes on the hash browns. Her curls were a frizzy mess, clothes wrinkled, and eyes bleary. When she caught sight of the newest addition to the family, her lips twisted from a frown to a bright, blinding grin. "Hey, Percy!" she greeted, causing Athena's head to turn from her position at the stove. She was cracking eggs into the pan, spatula clad in hand, flipping the food with ease. Her lips turned up, but it seemed somewhat fatigued, like she hadn't slept in years.

"Good morning, Percy. Did you sleep well?"

Wiping gunk from his eyes, he nodded.

"You can sit next to Annabeth. How do you like your eggs?"

"Sunny-side up, please."

She broke new eggs into the bowl, planting three new pieces of bacon into the frying pan next to her. The smell was heavenly, making Percy's mouth moist. He watched the meat bubble and crack, grease surrounding the strips.

"Hey," Annabeth said quietly, nudging him with her forearm. "You drool when you sleep."

Percy's eyes widened, cheeks flaming. "I-I do?"

"Yep. A lot. Like a lil' baby." Percy scowled at his friend. "Guess what?" His frown disappeared as he looked at Annabeth in curiosity, awaiting her answer. "We're having breakfast for lunch." Giggling, she put a new piece of bacon into her mouth. When she saw where Percy's gaze was planted, she shook her head fiercely, eyes narrowing. "Oh, no! Don't even think about stealing _my_ bacon."

"But I'm hungry," he whined.

"Wait your turn."

Despite her words, he smirked, grabbing one before she could even blink.

"Hey!" she protested as he popped in her mouth and began to chomp. "Jerk-off."

"Language, Annabeth," her mother chided as she slid a plate next to Percy. His green eyes lit up with vibrancy as the food was admonished, digging into the pancakes and swallowing them. The food was accompanied with orange juice, which he downed before even starting on the platter of hash browns. "What do you think Percy? Good?"

Taking a second to stop chewing, he nodded, instantly shoveling in pancakes. "Uh-huh. Thank you."

"Did your mommy make you breakfast?" Annabeth asked bluntly, not at all attempting to walk on the eggshells that surrounded his life. In a way, it was refreshing. There was no pity, something that he had grown to detest.

Percy's eyes dimmed as he spoke, with remembrance and pain. "Yeah. She used to dye all the food blue."

"Blue?" Annabeth repeated, like she hadn't quite heard him the first time. Her gaze fixated on her mother's. "That sounds cool. Can we do that tomorrow?"

Athena's smile had been wavering when Percy spoke, but she blinked and nodded, coming out of whatever dream-like state she had been in. Athena gently touched Percy's shoulder as he ate, causing the boy to tense up. He had to remind himself that Athena had been through loss, just like him, so he refrained from ripping away from her abrupt embrace. She was already extremely nervous from Percy's new presence, just like him. "I don't see why not. If that's okay with Percy."

He took a sip of orange juice, feeling tears brim in the corners of his eyes. "Yeah. That would be nice."

For whatever the reason, the tears began to stream, and his shoulders began to wrack. It was completely random. One moment he wasn't crying, and the next, he was having a break-down. He buried his face into Athena's apron, latching onto her. Athena knelt down and hugged him tightly back, murmuring comforting words in his ear. She smoothed down his hair, just like his old mom used to do. He had to tell himself that this wasn't his real mom, but it was someone that seemed to care about him just as much. He clung to her as he cried, breathing in her cinnamon perfume. Annabeth fell quiet through his embrace, occasionally patting Percy's back awkwardly. "It's okay, honey," Athena whispered. "You're safe now. We're going to take care of you. I'm going to take care of you."

When Percy pulled away, eyes puffy, there was wet spots on Athena's shoulder.

Tears that he didn't have to carry anymore.

Annabeth cleared her throat. "Hey, Percy? You full?"

He wiped his wet cheeks. "Yeah."

"You want to go watch a movie or something? I'll let you pick, but only this once."

Pulling a weak smile, Percy jogged after Annabeth's retreating strides, keen on spending some time with his new friend.

Athena smiled at them. "Only for a little while. We have to go to the mall when your father gets home, okay?"

"Alright!" Annabeth chirped, voice laced with impatience. She grabbed Percy's arm, dragging him along to the TV room. They both plopped down in front of the CDs, Annabeth flipping through the small book that held them neatly. "Whataya want to watch?"

Percy looked down at the movies, trying to contain excitement. He had never seen half of these! "Can we watch _Finding Nemo_?"

A half-grin curled on Annabeth's face. "What do you know? Me and the runt like the same movie!"

Percy's eyebrows arched. "Runt?"

"Yeah, 'cause your little."

"I'm not little."

"Little," she taunted, wagging a teasing finger in between his eyes.

"How old are you?"

"Nine."

"You're younger than me!" he stated indigently, snatching the movie book back.

Annabeth smirked condescendingly. "But I'm taller."

He stuck his tongue out- just a little habit he had picked up from Annabeth Chase.

She grabbed the CD and stuck it in the tray, grasping the remote. Moments later, they were squabbling on who got the biggest side of the couch, movie long forgotten.

Athena washed the dishes, watching them intently. It had been a long time since she had felt so at ease. After Malcolm, she had spiraled into a deep depression. She was still drowning in the waters, but maybe they weren't so deep anymore. She watched the boy with the sea green eyes, tugging a curl over her ear. He wasn't a replacement to her son, just she wasn't to his mother. They were just going to be there for each other, filling in the spaces between. She rinsed the plate, fighting back laughter as Annabeth tacked the poor boy to the ground. Thankfully, neither of them had started to cry. They were too busy giggling as they ticked, hit, and kicked. She'd have to break up their wrestling match eventually, knowing that soon one of them would get hurt.

As she dried the last plate, she smiled to herself. "They'd make a cute couple once they grow up."

It was obvious to her that this wasn't going to be a brother-sister relationship.

Call it a mother's intuition.

. . .

"What a couple of first-class losers," Annabeth grumbled, watching three older girls pass them. They were covered in pink, head to toe. "Thalia'd beat them up."

Athena pursed her lips, while Fredrick coughed to hide his laughter.

Percy watched them pass, frowning as one of them clipped him in the shoulder. "Jerk-offs."

Annabeth sent him a grin of approval. "And you're already picking up my vocabulary. Fast learner, this one is." She ruffled his hair, causing him to protest immediately.

Taking this as a distraction, Athena leaned near her husband. "How did it go?"

"The foster father wasn't too happy about it. He threatened to take Percy back forcibly, but I said if he really wanted to work this out, then I'd see him in court. That backed him off pretty damn quickly, and he signed the papers. Percy wasn't lying about the conditions. It's like a pot-house there."

Athena frowned, tugging her sleeves.

"The important thing is that we got him out. We'll take care of him from now on."

"This is silly," Annabeth complained, cutting into their conversation, hoisting her clothes tighter in her arms. "Can't we go to _Barnes and Nobles _instead? I'd rather spend money on books than looks."

Athena sighed, smoothing Annabeth's frizzed strands away. "My only girl, and she doesn't even like shopping."

Annabeth turned towards her new brother, releasing her hair from her mother's hands. "What about you? Do you like reading?"

Percy shrugged, his smile fading. "I wouldn't know. I can't read."

Annabeth blinked in puzzlement. "You can't read yet? You're ten!"

Athena tugged on Annabeth's collar with her index finger in a hasty attempt to silence the naïve girl. "That's enough, Annie."

"My name is Annabeth." She ripped away from her mother. Athena sighed at this, trying to not press the girl anymore. Ever since Malcolm's passing, a chasm had formed on their relationship. She was no longer allowed to call her daughter 'Annie' or even do her hair. It was all formalities now, and the girl was only nine. She had turned to her friend Thalia, who wasn't at all appropriate for a grade-school girl to be hanging out with. It wasn't that Thalia was a bad person, she was just surrounded by bad things. She didn't know any better, she didn't have a censor, and that meant her daughter didn't either.

"We'll teach you how to read, Percy," Fredrick stated.

"I have dyslexia."

"I know." Both Chase girls turned towards him. "It was on your file. ADHD, too, right?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, new sneakers squeaking against the floor as they walked into a different store. Everything still was muddled to Percy, like a dream. This didn't make any sense to the boy. Clean sneakers, new jeans; an entire wardrobe that belonged to him. It felt too good to be true. He already felt spoiled rotten, and that was just from a pair of sketchers sneakers.

"Don't worry about it," Fredrick dismissed casually. "It's no big deal. Lots of kids have it."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Percy's face. No one had ever brushed it away so simply, as if it had been an everyday occurrence.

"C'mon, Percy," Annabeth tugged on his hand, pulling him to the opposite side of the store. "I want to show you something."

Fredrick frowned. He wasn't keen on having a ten and nine year old walk around the stores on their own, but Annabeth often disappeared throughout the day. Her brother's death had made his daughter invincible. "You meet us back here in an hour, understand?"

"Don't wait up," Annabeth sing-songed.

"I'm not kidding, missy."

"Okay, okay. Understood, sir," she mock saluted before dragging the newest addition into the food court.

Once they were out of her parent's line of vision, Annabeth sighed, as if a big weight had been relieved from her shoulders. "Ugh, finally. Alone at last."

Percy's eyebrows were furrowed. "How come you don't like your parents?"

Maybe he would've felt better if she flat-out denied that, but all she stated was, "I never said I didn't like them."

Percy frowned, trying to understand his soon-to-be-sister. She didn't make any sense. At one moment, she was a normal, bubbly girl, then at the next, she was explaining how a thousand needles could not breach the circumference of an eye. Then came the unsettling moments, when she had such a distant expression that it concerned the boy. What exactly was wrong with her? Was she sick? The more he grew used to normal, every-day life, the more he realized that how she acted wasn't healthy at all, especially when he found her collapsed in the woods, _pretending _to be _dead_. "Hey, Annabeth?"

"Yeah?" They sauntered away from the good-smelling French fries and into a toy store.

"You know when I found you in the woods near the park?"

"Yes, I do know, dummy. I don't have amnesia."

Percy wasn't sure what that last word meant, but he decided against it to ask. He would just seem like a bigger idiot than he already appeared to be. "Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why did you act like you were dead?"

"I don't know. Sometimes I do goofy things."

Percy pouted, trying not to push anything from her. It was obvious she was stubbornly infuriating; if an authority figure wanted her to do something, she did the opposite. "That's not an answer."

Her eyes glinted with mischief. Before he could react, she had grabbed a giant bouncy ball and threw it with precision. It lobbed off the floor and sailed into the aisle next to them. She grinned while Percy broke into laughter, question long forgotten.

It would be years before he asked again.

Annabeth ran a hands through her hair, tying her hair up into a tight pony-tail. It hung near her neck, occasionally brushing against the bare patch of skin near her shoulder blades. Percy couldn't admire how pretty she was. His mother would forever be the most beautiful, but Annabeth was a close second. Her teeth were slightly crooked, nose too small, eyes too big, and eyebrows too thin, but Percy didn't mind one bit. He couldn't even recognize the flaws. She was bright and adventurous, everything that he wasn't. He could only hope to be as clever, as witty, as his best friend was. He guessed he had something to aspire for. Annabeth abruptly squealed, snatching a polly-pocket off one of the stands. "Oh, I don't have this one yet! Look at her dress, Percy! Look at it! It's black! Thalia would most definitively approve."

Percy found himself blushing, but she didn't seem to notice. This was the first time he had seen Annabeth go ga-ga over something girly. "You keep talking about Thalia."

"Yeah," she seemed breathless as they walked from the store, longingly glancing back at the rows and rows of different dolls and Littlest Pet Shops. Percy didn't spare it a passing glance. He wasn't one for toys. He used to be, but couldn't find any entertainment in the hunks of plastic any longer. It was a part of his childhood that had died the second his mother had, with no way to regain it. Percy hadn't quite fathomed it yet, but grew to accept it.

"Well, when do I get to meet her?" He couldn't deny it; he was excited to meet the girl. Annabeth spoke highly of the teenager. He could only hope she was as amazing as Annabeth spoke of.

"Eventually." She gave Percy a once-over, expression thoughtful. "Don't worry too much about it; she'll like you. I can already tell."

"You can?"

"'Course. I can see the future."

"Really?" Percy gaped.

She snorted, bumping into him teasingly, sending him spiraling the other way. "No, not really."

He scowled. Tricked again!

They wandered aimlessly into the pet store, the stench of cats and dogs instantly wafting near their noses. Annabeth beamed, rushing over to a dog in a cage, while Percy lingered near the door. He had only ever seen dogs on the streets, and they hadn't exactly been friendly. One had sunk their teeth into his forearm before, causing him to bleed out in the middle of the night. Surprisingly, he had managed to get himself patched up alright, an infection not included. Still, ever since then, he became nervous around animals. Specifically dogs. "Percy!" She beckoned him to come over. "Come see! It's a puppy!"

He shook his head, face pale.

Her eyebrows pinched together in disappointment. "Oh, come on! She's friendly." Between the bars, she scratched at the brown fur. He could hear the dog yelping playfully, but that wasn't enough to break his fear. "Don't be a baby! She won't bite."

He lumbered a few steps foreword. "How do you know?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "I already told you. I can see the future. Besides, she's in a cage." Hesitantly, with the knowledge that _yes, he had stupidly not noticed that the dog was locked up_ he knelt down next to Annabeth. She petted the dog behind its ears, smiling faintly. "You're a good girl, aren't you?" As if responding, the small puppy whimpered. Percy squinted, tilting his head, studying her more. She was small, definitely not big enough to seriously harm in. He couldn't help but break into a grin as he realized that her ears were much larger than her body, paws clumsily stepping all over them. Annabeth read off the paper in front of the cage. "Says here that she's a blood hound. Pretty cool, eh? She doesn't look that scary to me, does she?"

Mutely, Percy shook his head.

"That's why it would be okay to pet her, right?"

Percy nodded, slowly bringing his hand out. He shut his eyes, running his fingers shakily over the dog's snout. Something wet touched him. He let out a series of relieved, half-crazed giggles when he realized that she had not bitten his hand, but ran her tongue over his index and middle finger. "I like her."

"Told ya so."

They continued petting her.

"We should adopt her," Percy absentmindedly said.

Annabeth frowned, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "As if. Mom would never let a dog into the house."

"Maybe we could ask her."

Her eyes were hopeful, but her smile was sad. "Maybe."

A few minutes later, someone was shouting both of their names. "Annabeth! Percy!" They both turned to see Athena and Fredrick stepping into the store, wearing stern looks on their faces.

Annabeth didn't look at all frightened by their expressions. "Uh-oh," she snickered. "Looks like we're in trouble."

"It's been way longer than an hour, Annabeth Rose Chase," her mother scolded as they approached the two children.

"So sue me."

Athena's cheeks flushed with anger. "Annabeth!"

"What?" Annabeth eventually cracked under her mother's intimidating gaze, smile dispatching. "Sorry, okay? Sheesh. We found this puppy and lost track of time."

That seemed to calm Fredrick, but Athena's eyes remained anxious and guarded.

"Yeah," Percy chimed in. "We're okay, though. No harm done."

At that, Athena seemed to relax significantly, while Fredrick rested on knee on the ground to get a better view of the puppy. "She's a cutie."

Annabeth and Percy nodded, returning to pamper the dog.

Annabeth's father turned to look at his wife with pleading eyes, scarcely hidden behind his wide-framed glasses. Athena frowned, placing her hands on her hips in defiance. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?" Fredrick stood. "It's going to be a rough transition for Percy. Maybe a puppy will lighten his spirits."

She clenched her teeth, looking conflicted. Meanwhile, Annabeth and Percy shared secretive smiles at his words. "No."

"Athena?"

"No. That's my final answer."

Annabeth looked up, her bottom lip sliding below her top. Her grey eyes were glassy as she clasped her hands together, giving her mom, ironically, the puppy-dog look. "Pleaaaasssseee, mom?"

"I said no! No more asking."

Annabeth didn't hear that. Instead, she heard: _ask me again in five seconds_.

"Pllllleeeeaaaaaasssssseee, mommy? Percy and I'll take real good care of her-" If Percy didn't know any better, Annabeth was about to start with the water-works.

"Mrs. O' Leary," Percy corrected.

Heads turned towards him. "Huh?"

"Mrs. O' Leary," he slurred with a blush, fiddling with his hands in embarrassment. "I kind of named her."

Ten minutes later, they were filing yet _another _adoption paper. Only this time, it was for a three month year old puppy.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Good? Bad? Tell me. I'm sorry I've been lacking updates for my other stories, but I have been exhausted lately. Literally all I do when I get home from school is sleep. Transitioning to high school is tough. English class is actually pretty difficult, and math...ergh. I had two homework assignments and me, being the lazy and terrible mathematician that I am, wrote down random answers for every question. Learning math is for pansies. Anyways, how is you (guys) life going so far? Hopefully good. Gah, my anxiety is so horrible during school. I have SAD (social anxiety disorder) so it's always a good time.**

**The Maze Runner: Who saw it yet? Oh my gods, I was attacked with them feels. I thought they followed the book pretty decently. Everyone's been complaining how the movie contrasted with the book, but I think they did pretty good with it. Not everything in the book is going to be in the movie. My only complaint is I wish there would've been more Teresa scenes. And CHUCK! CHUCK IS SUCH A BOSS! He's my favorite character. And Newt. Newt is awesome. (Only you know what happens to both of them *sobs*)**

**If you haven't read The Maze Runner books, here's a word of advice before you start: everyone you will ever love dies. With that in mind, read THEM. NOW. :)**


	4. Chapter Three

**A Thousand Years:**

**Chapter Three: **

"Percy," Annabeth introduced, gesturing to the taller girl in front of him with a waving hand. "This is Thalia Grace." Percy's eyes widened upon meeting the older girl, who was not at all like how he had envisioned her. By the way Annabeth spoke about her, he expected her to be dressed completely in white, eyes baby-blue, like an angel. A halo even, perhaps. She looked more like a devil with her black clothes and scary eyes. There was a picture of a babie doll on her shirt, an arrow sticking through her head. She had electrifying eyes, a carefree grin, and a litter of freckles spread alongside her cheeks and nose. When her smile widened, the dots bounced with them. Black eyeliner was coated along her eyelids, her eyelashes curled and overly long. Her fingernails were dark and short. Her hair was frizzed, like she had just rolled out of bed and met them here. She was intimidating, and she knew it.

Annabeth rocked nervously on the heel of her shoes, glancing in between the two. "Well? Shake hands or something."

Thalia stretched out her hand to the younger kid. "Hey. I'm Thalia. You're the new Chase kid, right?"

"Percy," he corrected, taking her hand nervously.

Thalia shook it firmly, with a much tighter grip than he had expected from a girl. She glanced at Annabeth, eyes wary. "So you've finally replaced Malcolm?"

He expected Annabeth to get mad or burst into tears, but she kept her expression impassive. "No," she mumbled. "He's not a replacement. No one could ever replace Malcolm."

"Where'd you find the runt?" Percy wanted to cut in, but Thalia looked like she could cut _him_. Her eyes were rusty knives, and a sharper mouth than he ever thought anyone could have.

"The woods behind the park."

Thalia lit a cigarette with a Marilyn Monroe lighter. Percy coughed when she blew out, but looked up in awed amazement when she managed to blow a perfect ring of smoke the second time around. "Huh. You playing dead again, kid?"

Annabeth shook her head. Thalia arched an eyebrow, staring at the blonde girl harder. Eventually, begrudgingly, Annabeth sighed in defeat and nodded her head in consent. It was obvious to Percy now that there was something wrong with the older girl. She wasn't the saint Annabeth described her as being. She was too thin, perhaps even as skinny as he was while on the run, a leather jacket covering her boney elbows and arms. There were scars on her cheeks. Burns, Percy realized with horror. Embedded burns from a circlilar object. It was covered in pale makeup, but Percy could still see the charred flesh. Thalia caught Percy looking, squirming slightly. "Why don't you take a picture?" she snapped, while Annabeth shot him a dark look.

Percy flushed in shame. "Sorry. I didn't mean to. How did you get burned?"

Thalia's head whipped around so fast Percy thought she had gotten whiplash. Annabeth winced at Percy's bluntness, glowering sternly at him from behind Thalia. They were all seated outside, sitting on a fence, legs dangling off the sides. It had taken Percy a few tries to get up, but eventually Annabeth had taught him how to swing his legs up and around. He wasn't sure how to get down, but he figured it would be easier than climbing up. "How did you know these were from burns?"

Percy shrugged, stammering. He didn't want to go into detail about how Gabe had burned him with a hot poker on his leg. He still had the scar, similar to Thalia's. She continued to glare at him, awaiting an answer. Slowly, he tugged up his pant leg. There it was, a triangle tattoo that had turned pink and white with time. Thalia's expression relaxed, turning into a look of surprise. "Oh, man. I'm sorry, kid. Who did this to you?"

"My old foster dad."

She blew into her cigarette, sucking more in of the disgusting fumes. It smelled rotten to Percy's nose, but the fourteen-year-old seemed to enjoy and relish in it. She tilted her head sympathetically, short hair tilting. "My mom gave me these," she gestured to her cheek, pointing at the two burn-marks. She gave Percy a once-over again. "You know, you seem alright for a runt." She punched his shoulder playfully, nearly knocking him off his position on the fence.

Annabeth beamed at the bantering punch, shooting Percy a thumbs-up of approval.

Funny. Percy didn't feel very lucky.

"Thanks," Percy mumbled, rubbing his sore shoulder. "I appreciate that."

That seemed to implore Thalia's amusement. "He's spunky, too. I like him, Annie."

Annabeth whispered to Percy from the other side, "Isn't she so cool?"

Well, he wasn't sure 'cool' was the right word. Different maybe. A little too rough around the edges, eyes scalding and lips twisted into a seemingly permanent scowl. Even so, he was sure she had a softness to her that was unbreachable at a first glance. Kind of like candy. Hard around the edges, chewy on the inside.

"Hey, you want one?" she handed him a cigarette. He held it by his thumb and index finger, eyes widening as he examined the poison. "Just don't tell your parents."

"Uh..." he glanced at Annabeth expectantly, who looked just as confused as he did.

Thalia began to cackle, retracting her offer abruptly. "Oh! C'mon! You'd actually think I'd give kids a cigarette? I'm not that evil."

Percy was going goofy with puzzlement. Annabeth laughed, though it sounded forced to his ears. The sun was setting in the sky. Percy Jackson wasn't quite a 'Chase kid' (as Thalia stated him by) _yet_. There was still the legal process to go through, and Athena was as hesitant as ever. She didn't like the thought of having another son, and Percy understood why. He was in his own clothes now, t-shirt blue and jeans already ripped and dirty from playing with Annabeth, his soon-to-be sister. Thalia nudged his shoulder, and without thinking, he nudged her back. She cracked a smile at that, tossing the cigarette away. It fell into the shadows, molding into darkness. You could only see the ignited bud, but that went out as it came into contact with the wet mud.

"Okay..." Annabeth breathed, cheeks burning. He had never seen the girl blush, though he wasn't sure why. "How's Luke doing?"

Luke. That was a guy's name, right? He suddenly understood exactly why.

Thalia stiffened at that, eyes hardening to ice. She cracked her knuckles between her ring-covered fingers, letting out a sigh of discomfort. "Drug-dealing. Per usual." Reaching around, she placed a comforting hand on the disappointed girl's slouched shoulders. "I don't think we'll see him for a while. Sorry, Annie. I know how much you were looking forward to seeing Luke again, but he's been busy."

"What are drugs?" Percy asked, feeling out of the loop.

"Thalia told me they're bad stuff that we're never allowed to take," Annabeth explained in consideration. "Kind of like beer."

"Ah," Percy 'oohd' in realization. "I get it." Thalia stifled her laughter, biting her dark lips together, knowing very well how much they got. Annabeth raked a hand through her curls, untying it from the braids that her spirals were entangled in. Percy continued, "My foster sister used to do drugs. They called it pot."

Annabeth snorted, while Thalia pursed her lips together in a tight line. Naively, Annabeth burst, "What, like a cooking pot? My mom sometimes uses it to cook spaghetti."

He shrugged in response, unsure of what answer.

"Enough talk about that. You're too little to be pondering over shit like that." The dark-haired girl leapt down from their place with grace and dignity. She made it seem easy, her long legs touching the grass with ease. Her combat boots pressed against the dirt, smiling cheekily at the two kids slightly above her head. "You two wanna go shopping tonight?"

Annabeth and Thalia shared a mischievous grin, one that left Percy befuddled.

"Sure," Annabeth burst happily. She nearly knocked him over the fence as she slid down it. "I'll bring Percy, too!"

"Alright. I'll pick you up at the usual time."

Annabeth beamed brighter, which made Percy's cheeks burn. Thalia seemed to catch sight of his stare, then sent a knowing grin his way. "Well," she stretched. "I must be off. People to see, things to do, yada, yada, yada. See you 'round, Kelp Head."

She turned to leave before Percy could scowl, (he wasn't even sure where she came up with that insult!) but ended up slamming face first into a pine tree. Immediately, Percy erupted in condescending laughter. The teenage girl winced, groaning and cursing, hand held up to her red nose. "I keep forgetting that's there." She threw Percy a menacing look. "Shuddup, asshole."

Somehow, that made Percy giggle harder. "O-okay, Pinecone Face."

The look that she flashed Percy made his sentence stop short. Annabeth smothered a smile, however, which made it all worth it.

Thalia flipped him off as she passed, Percy jumping off the fence. Surprisingly, he landed well. Not as well as the other two girls, but he didn't fall flat on his butt, which somehow impressed Annabeth.

He glanced at Thalia's disappearing, storming figure. "She doesn't like me, does she?"

"Nah," Annabeth placed a hand on her soon-to-be brother's shoulder. "Her flipping you the bird means she _likes_ you."

After his meeting with Thalia, Annabeth and Percy walked back to their house, sneakers tapping against the ground. The sun was becoming bleaker and bleaker, city lights beginning to shine and neon lights getting lit up, blinking and unblinking. It was hard to imagine that just a week ago Percy had been living on the streets, scrounging through garbage cans and trying desperately to stay alive. His empty stomach was beginning to fill in, ribs becoming less obtuse and more healthy-looking. Athena had made him avoid eating rich food for the last few days, in a fruitless attempt to get him to eat healthier and gain nutrition back. Annabeth slid through the door, Percy stepping close to her heels. She slid out her sneakers, Percy following the same pattern that they had adjusted to every day.

"_We don't even know anything about him,_" a murmured whisper echoed through the house. "_I'm not saying that Percy is dangerous, but it might be nice to know exactly who we're raising. And then the dog! Honestly, Fredrick, we can't just drop everything for him." _

_"Athena._" His tone was firm. _"I know you're nervous about this. After Malcolm..." _

There was a deafening pause. Annabeth ripped her head away from where their voices were coming from, tugging on his sleeve. "C'mon, Seaweed Brain." Percy scowled at that. It had been a nickname she had dubbed him with after discovering his fascination with aquatic life, one that she had obviously shared with Thalia. That, and apparently the reason he was so oblivious was because his brain consisted of eighty percent seaweed. Therefore, she had managed to come up with 'Seaweed Brain.'

He needed something to get her back with.

They both collapsed on her bed, slouching against the wall. The past few nights, Percy had slept on Annabeth's bed, the blonde in her parent's bedroom. Percy drummed his fingers against his jeans, watching her wipe a bead of perspiration away from her forehead. "You excited for shopping?"

"Not really."

Annabeth frowned at him, wagging a disapproving finger in his face.

Before he could swipe at it, a playful yelp resounded. The puppy, ears too big for it's head, stood there, wagging her tail proudly. Mrs. O' Leary yipped again, clawing pathetically at Annabeth's bed. The girl huffed, but a small smile played across her lips. She reached down, hands outstretched, and the blood-hound complied. She yanked the small puppy up, letting her down when she managed to get her onto the pink comforter. Percy grinned, scratching the dog between the ears. It didn't take long for the dog to curl up in between the two children and drift into sleep, ears covering over her chocolate doe eyes. "She's so cute," Annabeth squealed, running her yellow-painted fingers along the dogs coat.

Percy agreed just as the door opened. Athena stood their awkwardly, wringing her hands out on the apron wrapped tightly around her waist and neck. "It's time for dinner. I hope you like pot roast." Percy nodded with alacrity, while Annabeth made a face of disgust, crinkling her nose upward in displeasure. They both peeled themselves from the bed, Mrs. O' Leary following close at their heels, occasionally nipping playfully at Annabeth and Percy's ankles. Percy took his regular place next to Annabeth, who instantly began to gag dramatically at the smell of ripe vegetables and fresh meat.

"Yes, Annabeth," Fredrick teased. "Nutritious food."

She stabbed a baked carrot stick with her fork, eyeing it carefully before taking a dubious bite out of it. Athena cut through the meat, planting two tiny pieces on the ten and nine year old's plates. Percy dug in, barely taking the time to cut up the meat into neat and organized pieces like Annabeth was doing. He swallowed just as his companion completed strategically separating the sections from largest to smallest. Silence took over the dinner table, only accompanied by the sound of silver wear clattering.

Fredrick cleared his throat, frowning sternly at Annabeth. "Don't play with your food."

"I'm not playing. There is no play- _only war_. The mashed potatoes are the Trojans and the pot roast is the Greeks."

Athena smiled at that, while Percy looked at her confused. "What's that about?"

Annabeth's jaw dropped in disbelief. "You don't know about the Trojan War?" Hesitantly, Percy shook his head in puzzlement. Annabeth took it upon herself to lunge into the story, explaining in vast detail how Paris took the beautiful Helen, along with the wooden horse that the Greeks had hidden themselves in to slip past the walls the Trojans had built.

Percy took a sip of his water, eyebrows crinkling together. "What happened to Helen?"

"Some stories say she went back with her stupid husband, while others say that she died in the midst of the battle. Either way, Helen and Paris didn't get to be together."

That didn't settle well with Percy. "But they belonged together!" he protested, lips twisting into a scorned scowl.

"Totally," Annabeth agreed as she poured gravy over the potatoes, fork grabbing up a spoonful. She rattled off a few more facts, causing a spark of inspiration to ignite in Percy's mind.

"Wise Girl!" the boy burst viciously, beaming at the name. "That's your new nickname."

"It's fitting," Fredrick commented with a smirk.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "It's weak." Before Percy could open his mouth and say something further, she gestured to his uneaten peas that continued to remain untouched. "Eat your peas, Seaweed Brain."

"Whatever you say, Wise Girl."

The rest of the dinner consisted of tense silence. Few words were murmured, and while Fredrick did his best to keep conversation up, Athena was unusually quiet. Afterwards, while the half-eaten plates were being cleared, Percy discovered why.

"We don't even use the room anymore," Fredrick muttered as they stood next to each other near the dishwasher. Athena rubbed her temples in frustration, washcloth drying the inside of the dripping glasses. Percy couldn't make out whether or not she was crying, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. "It's like a museum, honey. Do you think that's what Malcolm would've wanted?"

"I'm just not ready," she whispered hoarsely. Annabeth didn't appear to hear them, and even if she had, her expression remained blank. She simply remained curled up on the couch next to him, the TV slightly droning out the adult's conversation two small rooms away. Her tone turned jagged quickly as she pushed the plate into her husband's hands firmly. "Stop pushing me. If we need to, my office can turn into his new bedroom. I just...can't, okay?" Her words were painful and forced.

They were arguing over him.

Yet again.

Percy didn't want to leave. He didn't want to be reduced to sleeping under gutters and stealing food, but if he needed to, he would. If his presence was destroying an already crumbling family, he couldn't bring himself to allowed to be adopted. He'd rather go back to Gabe than make any of them unhappy. Despite it only being a few days, he already loved each family member as if they were his own. Percy shielded his glassy eyes away from Annabeth, turning towards the carpet.

He'd leave if it was necessary.

Hopefully he wouldn't have to, but he couldn't stand to destroy what was left of the broken down family. They had saved him- and he'd return the favor.

. . .

It turned out that, according to Thalia Grace, 'shopping' meant trash-picking. "We sell it at a small street shop afterwards," the teenager directed. Annabeth had woken Percy up after all the lights in the house had gone out, her parents fast asleep. He didn't want to break the rules, but what choice did he have? So begrudgingly, the boy had forced himself out of the warm covers and into the cold night. They had climbed out her window, using a small pole to shimmy down it. Percy wasn't frightened of heights, so the task was easy for him. Once the grass touched his sneakers, he spotted Thalia standing at a street-light a few houses down. A shopping cart was next to her, cigarette bud shining ominously in the darkness.

"Just don't pick out electronics," she admonished. "They get all angry with you and return 'em because most of them don't work."

Every half hour, they took turns pushing the cart. It was his turn now, and he lugged it past garbage cans. Thalia dug through a trash can, picking out a half-broken CD. She threw it over her shoulder in disgust. "Where'd all the good stuff go? This is all useless junk and food." She closed the lid after a few more moments of consideration, while Annabeth came rushing back. A few decently looking books were in her arms, an orange bowl in the other. The goth's expression brightened when the girl came rushing back. "Good job, Annie!"

Annabeth shrugged like it didn't matter, but Percy could tell she liked the praise.

A dog started barking in the distance. With Thalia, he had honestly expected her to start barking back, but she remained silent.

"Alright," Annabeth exclaimed over the disturbance of the dog, looking down at her watch. "It's my turn to push, yours to shop."

Yeah. Shopping. That's exactly the word he'd use.

Fortunately, Percy had been doing this for months. He was oddly (though luck had a big portion to do with that) good at finding things usable out of people's trash cans. He dug into the bag, flinging out a banana peal into the streets. A car drove past them, "Freeloaders!"

Thalia rolled her blue eyes. "Why don't you get out that car and say that to my face?" When the car drove away, she smirked confidently. "That's what I thought."

Percy grabbed a painting and a ripped hoodie, tossing them into the cart. The label on the handle said 'Walmart' in dark blue lettering. He returned to the garbage, sorting through all kinds of rotten things, but then stumbling across a Barbie doll. Anything that was slightly workable and didn't smell like dirty laundry went into the cart.

"Wow, Kelp Head," Thalia's eyes widened when she caught sight off all the merchandise Percy had discovered. "You're like a freakin' luck charm."

"Thalia? What will we do if someone calls the cops?"

The girl snorted. "They could. This is considered a federal offense."

"Really?"

"Yeah," the girl blew a clumsy circle of smoke before squashing the cigarette with her long combat boots. "Never happened to Annie and I before, so I wouldn't worry too much about it."

"Okay."

Thalia turned to the blonde. "What time is it?"

"Two thirty."

Percy gauged at her watch, green eyes wide with alarm. "In the morning?"

"Yes, Seaweed Brain. Duh."

He let that sink in, initial shock gone. The boy wondered what his mother would do if she was still alive, knowing that he was sneaking out of his house through a window, only to go commit a federal offense with a girl who smoked, and another that had a sick facinsation with death. Not only that, but it was the middle of the night, and he was rummaging and stealing trash. He smiled a little at the thought. He doubted Sally would even believe that he could do something like this, even if it was something that he was enjoying. She'd probably be angry with him, but then that irritation would dissipate. His mother could never truly stay mad at him for long. Would she like Annabeth? He knew she would. Thalia was another story, but he knew that she would eventually let the punk girl in with open arms. Those thoughts made him sad, so he brushed them to the corner of his mind and jumped back into his friend's conversation.

"I'd say we go to that all night Tim Horton's. Get us some coffee and donuts." Thalia held up her small change purse with a smirk, shaking it gently. Percy could make out coins rattling in it.

"I never had coffee before," he stated as they walked past buildings and skyscrapers. "How's it taste?"

"Bitter, but warm," Annabeth knocked him gently with the cart as she spoke, grin widening when he turned around to glare at her. A lop-sided smile appeared on his face when he noticed how pretty she looked, eyes tired and lips worn-down. Her curls seemed to flatten by the cold air, nearly straightening them. Her grey eyes were fatigued, shoulders slumping conspicuously.

"Aw," Thalia broke in, voice faux and dreamy. "Aren't you two the cutest ever!" Percy and Annabeth blushed simutamously. That seemed to push Thalia on, boosting to her previous comment. "There's no doubt about it. When you two are older, you'll be in love."

"Ew," Annabeth's lips morphed into a twisted grimace. "He's a Seaweed Brain. Who'd date a Seaweed Brain?"

"Who'd date a Wise Girl?" he fired back.

"Yep," Thalia repeated, her hands clasping upward to hold her cheeks, emphasizing her point. "True love."

When they got to Tim Horton's, they took a small seat into the corner, resting their cart in the corner. Thalia ignored the odd look that the employees shot her, sliding her phone shut. She ordered them three coffees and a box of six donuts, each cream-filled and chocolate colored. Annabeth added sugar to her drink, while Thalia added creamer. Percy followed both of them, mixing both ingredients together. The teenage girl didn't say anything teasingly about his choice, so Percy figured that he done something right for a change.

Even when he added all the sugar from the table, he decided that it was bland.

But when he thought about the people that surrounded him, it tasted a little better.

His smile faltered when the promise Percy had made came rushing back. He stirred his drink, eyes sad. Annabeth excused herself to the bathroom, leaving him and the eldest alone.

"What's with the long face?" Thalia questioned, taking a sip from her steaming cup. She ran a hand through her choppy, colored hair, ripping off a piece of donut and chewing on it slowly.

"How did Malcolm die?" He wasn't sure where that thought had come from, but before he could refrain, it had already tumbled out of his lips. "S-sorry. You don't have to talk about," he finished quickly, stammering throughout his sentences. The boy felt like kicking himself for being so obtuse.

Thalia's expression turned grave as she swallowed. "Don't worry about it, kid. I'll tell you. You have a right to know what you're getting yourself into." He leaned forward as she started, listening intently. "He was only thirteen when he passed away. Annabeth's mom was driving him home from his friend's house when they got into a collision with a truck. Athena survived, but Malcolm died on impact. She blames herself, y'know? Figured that she failed him as a mother." Percy bit into his donut, fighting back another set of sorrowful thoughts. "Annabeth and Malcolm were close. After his death, she was never quite the same. She doesn't exactly act normal anymore. She has no friends, except for Luke and I." Again, there was the mention of the boy that Percy didn't know, but Annabeth seemed to care about deeply. "Well, we're not exactly the best influences on a nine-year-old. That's why I'm trying to keep my distance from her."

"She pretended to be dead. That's how I found her."

She shook her head in disbelief, her foamy eyes turning dark. "She likes the idea of death. Before Malcolm, she didn't even_ think_ about it. Now it's all she ever talks about." Percy had noticed that a lot. She tugged another piece of the baked good off, licking off the chocolate smeared along the top. Thalia picked at the sprinkles, gaze meeting Percy's from across the table. "That's why I think you'll be good for her, you know. You're not exactly the most innocent, but you know how to retain it. Not just for Annabeth, but for that entire grieving family."

The ten-year-old couldn't comprehend this yet, but he would later.

"I thought I was the problem. Ever since I came, Athena and Fredrick have been arguing a lot."

The girl scoffed, muttering something under her breath that Percy's ears couldn't quite catch. "The problems started getting better since you've arrived. When's the last time Annie played dead, huh?"

"Not since I came back to Annabeth's house."

"Exactly," Thalia pointed out, flashing off her white teeth. "So don't even think about leaving. You're the best damn thing that's ever happened to her. Understand?"

Percy nodded his head mutely.

"Good. Enough heart-to-heart. You're going to make me gag on my own spit."

Yeah. Thalia really had her way with words.

By the time they arrived back at the Chase residence, it was nearing four in the morning. "Thanks for helping me out," Thalia's darkened fingernail rattled against her lighter nervously, almost as if being kind was something to cause her anxiety. "I...uh, really appreciate it." Her legs had swung over the side of their window, her shadow flicking through the light in Annabeth's room. "You're pretty cool, Perce." Thalia's boots rested on the carpet, thighs resting on the window's ledge.

"T-thanks," the boy stammered before yawning loudly.

"It's late," Thalia stated, thumb running over Marilyn Monroe's face. She lit the lighter, then diminished the small spark she had produced by releasing the button. "You two should get some sleep." Annabeth had already slumped over on her bed, mouth parted half-ajar. Her eyelids were closed, face relaxed. Her princess curls were extremely tangled and knotted, cheeks dirty and smudged. Thalia caught him staring and smiled gently. "Annabeth and Percy sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"Shut up!" Percy hissed loudly, causing the girl to chuckle quietly.

"You shush. Do you want to wake up Annabeth's parents?" When he didn't respond, a ghost of a condescending grin traced along the outline of her lips. Her electric eyes followed Percy as he opened the blanket next to Annabeth and flopped down beside his best friend. "Isn't that just a picture-perfect image?" she cooed.

"I don't like you."

"Ditto."

Percy stretched his hands over his head, eyelids closing. "Night."

"Night, Kelp Head."

As Percy drifted into unconsciousness, he didn't notice the fourteen-year-old leave. He was too exhausted to check, so he left it upon herself to slip back out into the summer night. He missed a lot about Thalia that night, even if it had only taken place around a few seconds. He didn't hear her mumble 'sweet dreams.' He didn't hear her slide out of the window, shimming down the small ledge.

He also didn't hear her crying.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know this chapter didn't have much Percabeth, but I wanted it to be focused on Thalia some more. She's gonna be a big part in this. I'm not sure if I'm going to bring in HoO characters. I might just stick with PJO characters.**

**Did any of you get Blood of Olympus yet? OMG I LOVES IT! Okay, anyway, I really do love it. I'm just scared to finish it. I'm on page 100 now. If you haven't read it yet, just know that REYNA IS A FREAKIN' BOSS. 'Nough said.**

**Oh, and please no spoilers if you've already finished it, please. :)**

**Reviews are much appreciated! **


	5. Chapter Four

**A Thousand Years:**

**Chapter Four: **

As the nights grew shorter, school approached quicker than ever.

They spent their summer days playing outside, ditching Annabeth's parents (which he followed along with, begrudging) and spending their nights 'shopping' with Thalia Grace. In the brink of dawn or the dusk of night, they would set up their sale near the store, hoping that customers would buy something they had savaged out of someone's trash cans. As the days morphed into weeks, and his adoption was nearing getting made official, they had each taken a special part in getting to know the boy with the green eyes. Which Percy appreciated, but it made him uncomfortable. His past no longer defined him, and he didn't exactly want to relive bad memories.

He shared little information, such as his favorite color, his hobbies, and his obsession with aquatic life. Athena blatantly wanted to learn more, but Percy had limited her. It didn't make sense to adopt a stranger into their home, but he was no longer just an acquaintance. Right? He hoped not.

He would like to think that him and Annabeth weren't just strangers passing through the day.

That they had meant for a reason, one that Percy couldn't determine yet.

The days had been grueling trying to get back to normal life. He was still getting used to taking showers and the adjustions that came with it.

It was his birthday.

August eighteenth.

Not that he'd ever tell anyone.

Fredrick knew, judging by the silent, searching look he had sent the boy the night before. When Percy hadn't confessed to anything, the blue-eyed man let it drop. He knew better than to pry. Percy always liked birthdays, appreciated them. However, if he was going to start over, he was going to wipe the slate completely new. New last-name, new family, new bedroom, new pet, and a new birthday. A new life. His one chance to start over.

Percy wouldn't blow it like last time.

"Almost official," Annabeth chimed, making her way past Percy and grabbing her own purple toothbrush. Percy scrubbed his teeth sloppily, nodding his head in confirmation. "Soon you'll be a Chase." She ran the prickles under cold water before applying the mint and bringing it through her lips. Her eyebrows narrowed in, expression thoughtful. "You don't seem...happy about that," she murmured. Not sadly, but stoically. Per usual. While they learned about Percy, the boy learned about them. Annabeth specifically. She wanted to be an architect (no surprises there) and besides from being a Wise Girl, she didn't like when people read her. She scarcely showed any emotions that were meaningful, and was wary of any stranger they encountered. "Do you want to be a Chase?"

He shrugged. _Yes_. "I dunno."

Annabeth frowned further. "I thought you were excited."

_I am_. "I dunno." He admired her pretty eyes before spitting into the sink, allowing the after=taste of the mint take in. His eyes watered from the strength and he wiped his mouth on the collar of his shirt, causing Annabeth to shake her head in distaste and disbelief. "I mean, yeah."

He was exceedingly content about becoming part of their family. His heart thwacked against his rib-cage in enlivenment and he had to fight back a large smile that threatened to play across his lips every time they mentioned that fact. This weekend, on Saturday, he would be officially their son. Well, not their son, but their adopted one. Annabeth would be, legally, his new (and only) sister. So why did that hurt so badly? His lips would scrunch up every time he thought of that, eyebrows pressing together. Why?

He knew why.

He wasn't supposed to think his sister had pretty eyes.

He wasn't supposed to blush and splutter whenever she ventured too close.

It was just..._wrong_. Incorrect enough for a ten-year-old to realize that pressing fact. Sister's were teasing and mean (much like Thalia) that always ruffled your hair a little too sharply whenever you were in the room. They were supposed to pick on you, yet still help you along the way. Percy wasn't allowed to like someone who his sister.

Not that he liked her like _that_. Who would ever date a Wise Girl? Besides that, girls had cooties.

_Who would ever date a Seaweed Brain?_ she would shoot back, and then they would both laugh.

Percy just liked her shiny curls and sparkly eyes. He liked the curve of her nose, and the way it would crinkle when she was about to berate him. He liked how the grey would flash to ice as they narrowed in the shape of knives. He loved when she defended him, and took pride when she complimented him. He didn't want to kiss her (maybe on the cheek) nor did he ever want to hold her hands.(they were too sweaty from playing, anyway)

That didn't stop him from admiring her and cherishing her beauty.

He bit down sharply on his tongue. Annabeth continued to stare at him curiously, but eventually huffed in defeat at the lack of response. "You're gonna tell me what's wrong sooner or later."

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" she titled her head questioningly, grey eyes flashing.

"Yeah. Maybe."

"Maybe means yes."

"Does not," he protested. "Maybe means maybe."

"Whatever you say, Seaweed Brain," said Annabeth in a sing-song voice, voice shrill and patronizing. She popped in her toothbrush before exiting the room, blonde curls resembling a flurry of spiraling tornados. "See ya at breakfast."

Percy looked at himself in the mirror after her departure. His raven hair was messier than her curls, sticking up at every angle. His green eyes were light and blank, void of any painful emotion. Annabeth had told him that they used to be dark, empty as the deepening depths of the sea. He used to be gaunt and skeletal, ribs evident. A small amount of fat covered that up, though the scars from Gabe's affliction never truly faded. Painfully, Percy swallowed. He tried to smile, but it came out looking forced and more like a grimace.

He left the bathroom, bare footsteps padding down the hallway.

"Morning, Percy," Fredrick acknowledged, flipping the page of his newspaper. "Sleep well?"

Percy nodded. "Yeah." For the moment, his new bed was in Annabeth's room. They said that their sleepovers couldn't last forever, however, something about it being deemed inappropriate as they got older. His soon-to-be sister had put up quite an impressive front, but for once, her parents were unreachable. Athena's hands were busily scrubbing away at a stained pan. She nodded towards Percy, a ghost of a smile tracing her jaw.

"How'd you sleep, Annabeth?"

"Fine," she exclaimed, sliding out her chair. Percy had already began to eat his toast, munching happily on the good food. "I had the dream about the spiders again."

Percy had woken up to blaring screaming one night. The agonized, tortured scream still echoed in his ears whenever he was reminded of the occurrence. It was...bad. Annabeth was shrieking her head off, thrashing and wiping at her arms frantically. He instantly went to her, shaking her shoulders until he caught glimpse of those grey orbs opening. She went slump in his arms, wrapping her arms tightly around him. It was the first time he had almost seen her cry. She was shuddering, trembling furiously, pale and sweaty.

He took another bite of his eggs, while Annabeth twirled the food on her fork, eyes interlocked on the action.

Athena shoulder's stiffened a fraction at her words. "I could get you some sleepy-time tea, Annie. Maybe that would help. You could try it...?" Her voice was always this way. Reaching and hopeful, but weak and hesitant, like it could crack and shatter in a moment.

"My name is Annabeth." Percy flinched at the coldness of her voice. He could practically feel Athena's push retracting, see the hurt in her eyes even after she had turned away.

Athena pushed, Annabeth pulled.

They were caught in an endless tug of war. Eventually, the rope would snap. One of them would tumble and fall, while one would remain as the victor. They were both so similar and stubbornly proud; it was hard to tell which would win. But Annabeth was emotionless (so it seemed) and Athena's pain radiated from her eyes and tightened lips. In their grief, they were different. Athena had little bursts of tears and anguish, while Annabeth clenched her teeth and simply endured it. The tension exploded over the room, but Percy kept his mouth shut tightly. It wasn't his place to step in. Not yet, anyway. Maybe eventually.

"So," Fredrick cut in brightly, clearing his throat. "Are you happy to have Percy as a brother?"

Annabeth's hardened expression softened significantly. Her eyes lit up, and Athena turned back to the dishes abruptly. He could see the unfairness in this situation. How Percy could make Annabeth elated and her own mother couldn't. Perhaps he was caught in the middle of their rope already. The idea of Percy leaving had left his mind a long time ago, Thalia practically knocking his theory out of him. He sometimes thought of that outing, but eventually decided that yes, he was better off here.

"Oh, yes," replied Annabeth. "It'll be cool to have a best friend as a brother."

Someone rung the doorbell.

Athena's eyebrows furrowed. She wiped her wet hands on a paper-towel, veering towards the door. "Who's that?"

Fredrick shrugged. "I wasn't expecting anyone."

She pulled the door open, mustering up an overly cheerful faux smile. It faded instantly when she spotted the visitor. "Oh, hello." Athena's words were strained as she shoved them irritably through her plush lips. Percy leaned over his chair, but he could only catch the shadow dancing on the wall. "Give Beryl my best, would you?"

There was a quiet murmur, one that none of them could catch. Athena sighed in exasperation. She mouthed; _Thalia's here. _Annabeth was on her feet immediantly, Percy following shortly behind. They clobbered down the stairs, both beaming when they spotted their Goth friend. There was no cigarette in her lips, much to his relief. He doubted that Athena would appreciate smoke in their house. Thalia's obvious discomfort was written across her face. When she spotted the two, she relaxed a tad. It was clear this was her first occurrence in the Chase's home.

"Hey, kids," she acknowledged with a grin. "Nice PJ's." Percy scowled at her sarcasm, cheeks flaming, fidgeting in his _Little Mermaid _night-wear. It wasn't even that girly! All it had was Sebastian on it, with the lyrics to his favorite song, _Under The Sea._ "I was just wondering if I could borrow them for a moment," she explained gingerly, turning back to Annabeth's mother.

"Actually," Athena's tone told her that _no, no she couldn't borrow them for a moment, _"We were just about to go to Church."

_What?_ Percy's thoughts demanded. _Since when?_ It was indeed Sunday, but he already knew that the Chases weren't Church-goers.

Her face fell, blue eyes losing their alacrity. "Oh, that's okay."

She seemed...different. While the Thalia he knew wouldn't back down without a bit of snarky retorts, this one seemed...shy. Knocked down too easily by Athena's displeasure. Did it truly bother her that much that she didn't approve of the punk girl? The Thalia that he had grown accustomed to the last few weeks couldn't care less what he thought of her, nor anyone else that ventured into her path.

Annabeth, on the other hand, glowered at her mother for a second. Everyone noticed it, but Athena seemed to ignore it bluntly. She was just about to close the door when Annabeth leaped desperately into the conversation. "Can Thalia come to 'Church' with us?"

"What?"

Thalia's eyes lit up, but managed to smother down her pleased smile.

Fredrick appeared by Athena's side, catching sight of the fourteen-year-old on their doorstep. "What's going on?" He didn't seem negatively affected by the girl's presence. "Hey, Thalia."

She let out a little sigh. Athena's death-glare had been wearing her down. Even the toughest and most-brandish crippled under her firm and meaningful stare. "Hi, Mr. Chase."

"I was just wondering if Thalia could come to Church with us."

Fredrick was confused. "Huh?"

"Church." Athena seemed not at all happy from the situation she had derived herself into. "Annabeth wants Thalia to come to Church with us."

It seemed to click for the man. He adjusted his glasses, the rays of sunlight reflecting on the glass. "Ah," he claimed, then shrugged his shoulder's. "I don't see why not. We'll pick you up at," he paused to glance at his silver watch. "How does fifteen minutes sound?"

"That sounds great." The girl's blue eyes swept over the blonde-headed family until it rested on the one raven-haired one. "I'll see you guys later, then."

Athena nodded, smiling, before closing the door.

Her smile turned into a menacing frown. "Really?" she hissed at her husband.

He played innocent. "What? I thought we were going to Church, dear."

Athena bit back a comment before storming off. "_That girl_ better not show up to Church wearing those innapropriate clothes." Apparently the women didn't approve of Thalia's Death To Barbie T-shirt, an arrow through the doll's temple and head. Annabeth scoffed slightly under her breath, something that Athena's ears caught. Mrs. Chase chewed on her lip for a moment, regarding her youngest daughter's mask of stone. Percy held his breath. The rope was going to tear, it had to. They would both erupt into a screaming mess, pulling and pushing; tangled and broken at the same time. Fredrick and Percy watched their stares mutely, until eventually Annabeth broke their rough and jagged gazes.

"I'll get ready," the little girl stated calmly, but Percy could sense a waver of anger to her words. "C'mon, Seaweed Brain."

Without waiting to see if Percy was following, she stormed out of the room.

Fredrick stole a glance at Athena, one that turned out not to be stolen at all, because she stared back. Percy got the gist of it, just by their eyes. _We need to talk about Annabeth_.

Percy sauntered away, footsteps padding to their room.

The door was shut. He twisted to the handle and was about to pull it open when a force slammed it shut. He could hear Annabeth's heavy breaths from the other side of the door. "Gimme a sec," she explained, embarrassment lingering in her tone. "I'm changing."

"Oh." _Oh._

He could hear drawers being slammed shut, and Annabeth muttering in frustration under her breath. Her light footsteps resounded from her room, which eventually turned into a heavier set with the appearance of shoes. Finally, after a few more minutes, the door was tugged right open. "You can come in now."

He stepped across the threshold, but stopped short when he caught glimpse of her. She skipped back to the mirror, doing a small girly twirl, so not Annabeth that it startled him. She was wearing a navy-blue dress, the fabric soft and firm. It reached her knees in a small poof of material, but the top was plain. The sleeves stretched down to her tan, skinny forearms, and her curls hung in a halo around her shoulders. She had slid on plain, black dress shoes, and then tugged her hair up into a high pony-tail. Over all, she looked rather plain, but Percy still thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on.

Besides his mother, of course.

_Brothers aren't supposed to think sisters are pretty_, he chastised himself, instantly diminishing the thought from his head.

"How do I look?" she asked.

"Okay."

"Okay?" she echoed bleakly.

"Yeah."

"Just okay? Not even a lil' pretty?" His previous opinion danced along his tongue, but the fact that she was indeed going to be her older brother quieted him. He remained silent, causing Annabeth to sigh. "When are you going to tell me what's been bothering you?"

Percy shrugged, trying not to meet her searching and pleading eyes. "Nothing's bothering me."

She rolled her eyes, planting a hand on her hip in annoyance. She threw him a collared shirt from across the room, along with a pair of fancy slacks. "Get dressed," she commanded. A few curls slipped from her tied hair, falling around her cheekbones.

Annabeth didn't seem irate, but she didn't appear disappointed either. Just impassive, which meant that this upset her.

Percy tugged his pajama shirt over his head after Annabeth had gone, and began to get ready.

. . .

The wind blew their hair around, flicking it into Percy's eyes. He giggled, however, because this had never happened before. There weren't enough seats in the Chase's usual minivan, so Fredrick had suggested his pick-up truck he used for work. Athena had protested, but the three children clobbered into the back anyway. After Mr. Chase had thoroughly promised to take back roads to get to Church, Athena had climbed into the passenger seat without a second word, icily chilling.

The car bumped, so they bumped.

Percy hadn't ridden in the end of a truck before, and it was honest to God, fun. The wind blew there hair around, messing Annabeth and Thalia's completely, blowing up their skirts. Percy was surprised at how different Thalia looked without all the makeup on her face. She had scrubbed the eyeliner away, along with the pale blush, her scars more evident than ever. She was still pale, but not ghastly so. Her blue eyes seemed softer and kinder, almost like the sky. Her lips were thin and dry, but pink. Raven hair fell over her shoulders, held together in a tiny bun. She was wearing a black shirt that exposed her shoulders, with a formal dark skirt. Thalia was definitely a natural beauty, whether she knew it or not.

Annabeth brushed a strand out of her eyes, which were blearing together in a mixture of excitement and disbelief. "I can't believe dad let us do this!"

"Neither can I," the older girl said, stretching her arms over her shoulders. Without all the makeup, he could count each one of her light freckles. They were less conspicuous without the layers of white she coated herself in every day. Percy thought to tell Thalia how beautiful she looked, (in a friendly manner) but after he had chosen not to respond to Annabeth, he kept his mouth tightly shut in a grim line. "Your dad rocks!"

Annabeth beamed proudly, wrapping a tight around Percy, who was seated in the middle of the two. "_Our_ dad rocks."

A surge of different emotions shuddered through him, each one good, causing him to grin toothily.

Thalia smiled at them, but her eyes were sad. It was another thing that Percy had realized about her. She was simply put, sad. She disguised it in dark clothes and black lips and scary eyes. Sorrow still shined through, however, something that she was unable to cover up. Percy wondered what could've happened to a person to make them so dead inside. After a moment of heavy-hearted consideration, he decided that he didn't want to know. Something told him that wasn't his choice. Not in the very least. The truth would eventually come out, and it wasn't up to him when, even if he wasn't prepared yet.

Music blared through the front of the truck. Through the window, Athena was massaging her temple with her finger, expression annoyed at her husband's antics.

Thalia laughed, ruffling Annabeth's mussed hair, then moving onto his. "I _love_ you guys!"

Percy smirked. "Ditto."

Before he could react, Thalia pressed a kiss to his cheek. It was completely sisterly, and judging by Annabeth's dumbfounded expression, this was the only form of affection she had ever shown. (non-violent, anyway). Percy gawked at the girl in shock, and she merely shrugged in response. "You remind me of my brother, that's all."

Percy opened his mouth to ask about it, but the truck slammed onto a dirt path, sending them scattering around the end. It was an indescribable feeling. It felt as if he was flying. The wind rushed through his jet-black hair and into his green eyes. Momentarily, he had to squint against the sunlight pouring through the clouds. "I've never been to Church," he admitted. "My mom always wanted to take me, but she never got around to."

"Well, howdy-doo for you," Thalia remarked.

Percy stuck his tongue out at her.

A question silence all of them.

"Do you believe in God?"

Their light-hearted bantering ceased as they turned to look at their friend. Annabeth glared hardly down at the floor the vehicle, her grey eyes welling in unrecognizable pain. When she turned to look up at them, her face was blank. That fear never left her eyes. It lingered and swam in her storm-clouds, until she blinked and ripped her vision away from them.

"I don't know. I've never really thought about it." He glanced at Thalia, awaiting her answer.

Thalia stretched her combat boots up on the side of it, staring unblinkably into the sky. She seemed casual, but her jaw was set as she carefully selected her words. "I do believe in a God," she started off, slowly and cautiously. "Not the one in the Bible. He just seems...too good. Too kind. Too perfect. Not fit for this shitty world." She flicked her Marilyn Monroe lighter, eyes skimming the contents of it. "There is a God. He just...doesn't care," she gritted out, spitting the words like posion.

Percy's eyes were wide, Annabeth's intent.

Thalia cleared her throat, trailing off. "Either way, we're on our own."

They both allowed those words to sink in.

"There is no God," Annabeth finally insisted.

No one in the truck objected.

. . .

After Church came the signing of the papers.

The young boy leaned against the side of the chair, fighting the smile that twitched at the corner of his lips. He held the light yellow paper in one hand, a ball-point pen in the other. _Percy Chase, _he mused inwardly. It fit him. He liked it, also liked the way it rolled off his tongue smoothly. Even by the smiling and nods of encouragement, Percy's hand trembled.

Mrs. O' Leary licked his ankle, almost as if she were pressing him onward.

"If this isn't what you want," Fredrick had said minutes before. "You don't have to do this."

Didn't he, though? They had given up so much to allow him into their crumbling world, and to let him walk on the destruction of their castle of glass. Malcolm was dead, there was something..._wrong_ with their daughter, and now they were adopting a boy they scarcely knew into their lives. Fredrick and Athena must've liked him a ton to do this.

It wasn't like he didn't want to. Getting over the biased thought of how he was the one ruining their already cracked family had taken the words from Thalia to pass, but nothing anyone said could make him forget about..._that_.

_Brother's aren't supposed to think sister's are pretty._

He poised the pen on the paper, shifting his position.

Athena and Fredrick had already scribbled their signatures on the paper. So had Gabe, without much reluctance. Big surprise there. Annabeth had pitched a fit when she learned she didn't get a say, nor a name, so finally her parent's had allowed her to write her name next to Percy's empty space.

Why was he so scared?

Because this was all...foreign to him. Percy stood at the crossroads, unsure of whatever path to take. One might lead him to destruction, eventually, but he didn't want to leave everything he ever knew. Percy didn't want to start over.

Not again.

So with a deep, shaky breath he signed his name in the signature bar below. _Percy Chase_.

Athena smiled, and for once, it appeared genuine.

"It took you that long to sign your name?" Annabeth shook her head, curls shaking. Fredrick shot Annabeth a reprimanding look, one which she pointedly brushed off, shrugging innocently. The yellow paper was taken from Percy.

"I'm proud of you, son." Percy blinked up at the man. "This was a big decision. A hard one, especially for someone your age. You're very brave."

You know the way adults talk when they're babying you after getting a shot or blood-work done? This wasn't like that. There was no pity whatsoever. Fredrick looked him in the eye, and spoke to the little boy as if Percy was already a man.

"Thank you."

Athena let out a long breath, almost as if she had been holding it in all this time. That was okay, because Percy had been too. "Well," she pushed herself up and out of the chair. "We should go celebrate."

"Celebrate?" he questioned.

Athena rolled her eyes in chastise, much the way Annabeth did. The resemblance between them was uncanny. "Celebrate the newest addition to the family. You're now my..." she paused, voicing her words softly. "You're my boy."

Percy expected to cry, but he couldn't feel anything but happiness. Cliché, but true. He felt elated and relived, like the water had been swallowing him whole the entire time and this was the first time he broke free.

You don't die from falling in the water, he realized with a jolt. You drown by staying there.

"How does Pizza Hut sound?"

Annabeth grinned, pinching Percy's cheeks playfully. He blushed bashfully. "Whataya say, Seaweed Brain?"

"Sounds...awesome." And the answer was so Seaweed Brain(ish) that it made both of their lips stretch.

They walked to the door, only pausing to allow _their_ parents to drift ahead of them. "Welcome to the family, Percy," Annabeth said. "I hope you'll like it here, brother."

She bounced along the path, sunlight lighting up her golden ringlets, grey eyes bright and vibrant.

His stomach twisted painfully.

_Brother's weren't supposed to think sister's were pretty. _

* * *

><p><strong>AN: For some reason, this chapter was really difficult to write. I am sorry for the nine day wait. School has been a butt. My math teacher is an idiot. 'Nough said. Anyways, I can't believe I need to say this, but this is not incest. They're not blood related, anonymous guest. **

**There will be a time jump next chapter! I am so excited to write. Next chapter they shall be fourteen, and Thalia shall be eighteen. I will also be changing the POV to first person, only because I thought it would be nice to have their childhood on third, then when they mature and grow up, to have more of their thoughts into the story.**

**Reviews are always appreciated, and please excuse any grammar l errors I may have made. **


	6. Chapter Five

**A Thousand Years:  
><strong>

**Chapter Five:  
>Annabeth's P.O.V:<strong>

_**/Four years later/**_

. . .

_You wouldn't expect the rain to keep falling, but it did. _

_The minivan drove down the streets. Rain poured down on the city of New York, droplets splashing like acid on the roof of the car and windshield. His grey eyes peered out, worriedly. A flash of lightning appeared over the horizon. Athena's hands tightened her grip on the steering wheel, turning it sharply to the left. Malcolm slammed into the side of the seat, but quickly regained his bearings. __"Careful, mom," he chastised in a light-hearted tone, but it overlapped with obvious concern. "This storm is getting bad."_

_"I'm a very cautious driver," she replied stoically, her matching eyes burning a hole into the truck in front of her. "How'd you do on your homework?"_

_The almost teenager shrugged in displeasure, blonde curls falling gently into his eyes. He tapped his chipped fingernail on the window next to him, attempting to count the droplets that splattered against their blue car. Malcolm eventually gave up, seeing that every time he was almost done, new drops would appear. "English is still pretty hard, but I'm excelling in math."_

_Athena smiled, running her purple nails through his hair. "That's my good boy."_

_Malcolm scowled, veering away from her outstretched hand, but that didn't stop the small smile that tugged against his lips. "Quit it, mom. I'm not a dog, you know." _

_"What? Are you too old to be touched by your mother now?" She knew this phase. Hell, she experienced this phase. That one part in your life when it was just too odd to accept loving attention from your parents, too embarrassing to introduce them to your friends or new-found lovers, and far too weird to have heart-to-hearts anymore. The cuddling days were over between them. Malcolm no longer crawled into bed with them when he had a nightmare, simply clicked on his light and endured it through books and his laptop. Athena sighed in disappointment. There was always her daughter, Annabeth, but even at her young age, she didn't relish in touch. She didn't hug, rarely spoke out of excitement, and never dared snuggled with either of them._

_Apparently she had already lived through her phases. _

_Or so it seemed. Her daughter seemed above her years. Even though she was seven, and even though she had just started Elementary school, when you looked at her, she seemed seventy rather than seven. _

_That would've troubled Athena, but Annabeth was a carbon-copy of herself at that age. _

_Malcolm flushed in embarrassment, toying with the string to his hoodie. "Maybe."_

_She retracted her hand back, that teasing smile still written all over her face. Athena turned into a different lane, watching the darkening clouds expanding and reaching out to one another, creating a cluster of a storm. "I hope this stops," she admitted. "The basement might flood." _

_Malcolm tugged out his small phone, flipping the screen open. He turned on one of his games, quality time between his mother and him long forgotten. _

_Athena frowned. "Would it kill you to spend some time with your mom?"_

_"We are spending time," he corrected, and they both grinned at each other. "The cell phone just decided to join us for the time being." _

_Athena rolled her eyes, but managed to ruffle his hair again. She was glad her children were blessed with wild curls rather than her husband's short and wiry hair. Their eyes were hers, but the sandy color of his was his, along with their curved noses and gentle lips. Their sharp tongue was hers, along with their storm-cloud, steely eyes. Annabeth's reclusiveness was her husband's and Malcolm's closeness was hers. A good balance between the siblings. They had always been close, playing Legos together and whatnot. She was glad for this. When Athena was a child, her relationship between her older brother had been rocky to say the least. _

_She turned the car onto a new path._

_There's a bump, and Malcolm's phone slipped from his loose hands, clattering to the floor. "Darn it," he complained, unclipping his seatbelt. _

_"What are you doing?" _

_"Just a sec, mom." His fingertips reach for it, eyes fixated in determination. He leaned back up victoriously, reaching for the strap. She didn't have time to tell him to get back in his seat. Didn't have time to even reprimand him for unbuckling, didn't even have enough time to cry out. The car behind them slammed into them, cutting the back as if it were made of paper. _

Just a sec, mom.

_It had taken just a second for him to die. _

_It hadn't even been that bad. Just a little shove from the car behind them, sending theirs skidding forward and crashing. Athena's head slammed back as white filled her vision. There was a shatter. Rain splashed in her face, wind whipping her tied hair around. A shard of glass cut into her cheek, causing a gasp of pain. "Malcolm?" she whispered, coughing, pushing the airbag away. Her wrist was broken. "You okay, honey?"_

_It felt as though a shard of glass had been embedded into her stomach._

_The passenger seat was empty._

_The glass to the windshield was broken, like a body had ripped through it. _

_And even through all that, the rain kept pouring. _

_. . . _

The cold air stung my face, but I didn't move. I remained solemn and frozen in place, hands outstretched across my chest, much like they had done many years ago. The lights from New York City were illuminating, occasionally flashing across my half-opened eyelids. I licked my dry lips, parting them open yet again. I relaxed my features, attempting to appear as gaunt and waxy as before. My black jacket was ripped and torn, jeans muddy. My grey converse were worn-down, the leather on the side peeling off. A breeze caressed my cut cheek. I could scarcely make out the stars above, but I could occasionally catch glimpse of a glimmer on the moon-lit sky. Honks of horns blared around me from towns near, the usual pop-garbage music playing obnoxiously over speakers. My fist tightened at my sides, fingernails digging into my sore flesh.

"Malcolm?" I whispered, voice masking hidden morbid amusement. "You there? Are you watching?"

I shifted my position stealthily. It wouldn't be long now.

I could hear the faint sound of tires squeaking over the gravel. The trees rustled above head, and the blue lights flashed to a neon green. The low music would not stop playing, but I shut my eyes.

There was a sharp squeal of brakes. I could smell the gasoline lingering from the car.

A slamming of doors. "Holy shit!" A male voice announced, tone panicked. Their footsteps bounded hesitantly off the stones as they approached my slumped body. I longed to look up and see their priceless expressions, but I kept myself still. I was the definition of a statue. A small gasp of a breath escaped me, but they didn't appear to hear it. A girl was crying- near full-out sobbing- gesturing to my lifeless body in frantic hand motions.

"She's dead!" The girl cried, clutching her stomach with her curled hands. "Is...she?" Her sandals took a few steps forward, then bounced back, as if my image had burned her. I could hear the man cursing, and finally, with in a shaky voice, she asked the question that I was awaiting. "Could you go see?"

His head whipped around in surprise. "See what?"

Her voice dropped to a low whisper. "If she's dead!"

"Shit, man!" He ripped at his long hair underneath his sideways hat. "Shit, shit, shit!"

A whimper tumbled from her lip-glossed lips. "Is she?"

"I don't know!" he snapped back. I could feel his breath brushing over my cheekbones as he neared closer, smell the pot on his clothes, feel his rough fingers as he grabbed my wrist and squeezed it. I held my breath. "She's got a pulse."

A heavy sigh of relief tumbled out. "You sure, babe?"

"What? Are you calling me a liar?"

"Of course not!" Their voices were equaling grating, but while his was enraged, hers was a mixture of clinginess.

They were so engaged in conversation that they didn't notice me flash my eyes open. The girl had tumbling blonde curls that fell to her enlarged hips, plain eyes magnified with curling mascara. Her cheeks were flushed and full of red, while his eyes were overlapped with haziness. He was nearly shorter than me, but looked much older.

"She's bleeding and all cut up," the girl murmured. "Do you think someone did this to her?"

"What do you want me to do about it?" he demanded.

She stumbled forward, brushing his words off. She kneeled over my body with ease, bare legs touching the cold ground. She prodded me in the un-cut cheek, voice raspy and disconnected. "Hello? Are you okay, girl?" She shook me roughly, my elbows bouncing around on the ground. I wanted to seethe in pain, but bit down sharply to hold my tongue.

I remained silent.

Two fingers traced my neck, pressing down gingerly. "You're right. She's gotta pulse."

_I wasn't dead. Why wasn't I dead? Why didn't they think I was dead? I am dead. _

She stood back up, her floppy hair big and hair-sprayed. "We need to get her to the police or a hospital. We could-"

Her voice was cut off as she cried in pain. There was a resounding sound that sickened my stomach as flesh collided with flesh.

"Shut up," he hissed. "We ain't going to a police station. I'm not getting busted again."

My stomach flared with anger. I wanted to sit up and scream at him until my voice grew raw and shaken, but I was deceased. I couldn't move, speak, or sit up.

Neither could Malcolm.

My eyes dampened, and I squeezed them tightly shut. Dead people couldn't cry.

After her whimpers had died out, she whispered reluctantly, "What about an anonymous tip?"

He paused for a minute, and I wondered if he was going to slap her again. Instead of growing irate again, he settled with a simple "Okay."

The police wouldn't do.

I sat up.

I ignored their shouts and scalding questions. Even when the girl grabbed my shoulder to turn me around, I ripped away, shrugging her off. They smelled of drugs and alcohol. Something that I didn't want to breathe in any longer. A sob bubbled in the back of my throat, but I slammed it down. I'd always persevere. My foot bounced off the road. I was miles from home, the exact place where his death had taken place. It was the anniversary, after all. School was long forgotten. I hadn't even bothered showing up today, but my father made a point of going to work. My dad, always the optimistic. My steps halt as I pause, watching cars pass around me. It was a miracle that none had run me over. I wanted to lay down again, trying to make my dream a reality.

I didn't.

Instead, I turned and continued to walk.

My phone beeped with incoming messages. All from Percy.

Percy, my brother. Percy, the sweet one. Percy, the Seaweed Brain. Percy, someone that I didn't view as a brother.

Maybe I thought he was handsome. Maybe I thought the way his green eyes sparkled vibrantly (even after all these years) was endearing rather than simply brotherly.

We weren't actually related, but the law said we were. My parents said we were. What would they think if they knew the feelings I harbored for the boy I was supposed to view as my older brother?

I felt my phone vibrate. My fingers tensed around it, squeezing. My teeth gritted together painfully as I struggled to keep it together. "For Percy," I reminded myself, and my grip slackened, tense shoulders relaxing.

_For Percy._

I didn't have time for love, anyway.

I ended up picking up the phone rather than turning it off, because I couldn't stand the idea of _him worrying_ over someone like _me_. "Hello?" I tried to keep my voice controlled, but it came out breathless and hoarse.

"Annabeth?" My heart stilled, stomach lurching at the sound of his voice. Tears clouded my eyes. He cursed when he realized what my shaky breaths meant, panicked and upset. "Annabeth, where the hell are you?" I didn't answer. A silence transfigured our conversation, the words I wanted to say dying in my throat. I turned, watching the loud night continue. I wasn't sure where I was anymore. Definitely not the upper part of town. I stepped across the road, my shadow gracefully representing me. "Okay," he sounded like he was trying to build me back up, but him at the same time. "Okay," Percy whispered again.

"Okay?" I murmured, so quiet that I was unsure if Percy could hear me.

"Yeah." There was voices in the background. Thalia's. "Everything's going to be okay. Just breathe, Wise Girl."

I heaved a breath.

He continued, "Did you take your medication today?"

My mouth tasted like lead. "Medication?" I blanched. "No, I forgot. Crap." No wonder my head had been so foggy.

"Alright." _Let me talk to her, _my friend's voice demanded. "Where are you?" he asked again, ignoring Thalia's demand entirely.

I glanced around at my unfamiliar surroundings, the calm that had spread through me dispatching. Shock and terror settled in. "I- I don't know." I looked at a sign, running a frustrated hand through my hair. Suddenly, the darkness around me seemed a lot more menacing. "Um, I'm near this tattoo place." I explained the name and the other shady stores around it.

"Great!" he burst. "Well, not great, 'cause your down that low, and uh, great because-" he cleared his throat, trailing off. "Thalia knows where it is. We're coming to get you." There was a slamming of a door. "Don't move, understand?"

"Yeah." I took a seat at the end of the curb. "I understand."

"I'm keeping you on the line, so don't you dare hang up."

I was tempted to hang up, just to wallow in his reaction, but I figured he was worried enough. "Whatever you say."

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" I looked down at my cut legs and muddy clothes. My blonde hair was a dirt-laced mess, and dried blood stuck to my cheek.

"A little."

"A little?" he echoed, voice frantic. "What do you mean, _a little_? Oh, god, how badly? Do you need a first-aid kit? Stitches? Just apply pressure-"

I didn't get to hear the last of his sentence. My phone beeped, signaling the end of its battery, and I stuffed it back into my jean pocket. I knew Percy was going to be livid, but I couldn't ponder it. I had just had to wait until they got here, go home, and sleep it off. Pretend this night didn't happen, or the one last year, or the one before that-

I shivered, my foot stepping on dried leaves. It sounded like bones were cracking beneath my peeling sneakers. I slipped into the tattoo place, warmth instantly spreading over my cheeks. There was a soft roaring sound of materials being spread on the dip between a girl's breasts. I cringed at the idea, and took a seat in a chair, my hands giving out little trembles every now and then. The anticipation was beginning to dissipate, along with the adrenaline. Pain settled into my cut cheek and hands. A girl dressed in half a shirt sent me a meaningful look, but I didn't return the gaze, and just turned outside and faced the frost-covered window. "Hey," she shot out. "You."

My eyes flickered back to her. "Yes?"

"You getting a tattoo or what? Because if you're not, then I'm gonna have to kick you out."

I shuddered inwardly at the idea. "I don't have any money."

She took in my appearance, scowling slightly. "Jesus H. Christ, kid. What happened to you?"

I shrugged again.

She looked as if she were debating something. She cursed under her breath, then faced me. "Get your ass over here, girl," she finally said, and I complied. She grabbed the handle to a small first aid kit, gesturing for me to sit down. My legs aching, I wandered over, taking a seat on the wooden stool. It wobbled slightly, but held my weight. She popped it open, grabbing a disinfectant wipe. She settled it on my cheek, causing me to wince. "Sorry," she apologized, but didn't sound sorry at all. She dabbed further, smearing the crimson around in ginger circles. "What's your name, girl?"

I didn't reply.

"My name's Bianca. Do you know where you are?"

Subconsciously, I nodded.

"How'd you get here?"

"I walked."

She snorted, her endless eyes rolling. "Well, obviously." There was a silence. "Did someone do this to you?"

I shook my head.

"Then what happened?"

"I happened."

She stared at me incredulously before growing thoughtful. Eventually, as she was placing on a bandage, she said, "Alright. I'm not one to pry."

I swallowed down the bile rising in my throat, growing thankful. "Someone's coming to get me."

Her lips pursed, tightening into a firm line. "Okay. I'll just wait with you until they do."

Some other workers glanced at us, but didn't comment further. I decided I liked this place. Everyone seemed a little messed up here, and all of them appeared to know better than to ask questions about backgrounds. No wonder Thalia had gone here when I was younger. The store was shady, and as were the people, but because of this, they weren't quizzical. It didn't take long for Thalia's run-down car to get here, and Bianca hadn't delved into more serious questions other than my age, which I was grateful for. I watched through the shadows as the door to it opened, and a short figure hopped from it. Percy. My heart hammered against my ribcage as I watched him open the swinging doors and step through the threshold.

"Who's that?" she questioned quietly.

"My brother."

She pointed out, "You don't look much alike."

I clamped my mouth together after that.

"Annabeth!" he called when he spotted me. I slid off the stool, murmuring a quick thank you to Bianca. She nodded in response, but didn't say anything else. I walked up to him, noticing how he was just a few inches taller than me now. Still as scrawny as ever, but just passing the top of my head. I glanced curiously down at his sneakers. Maybe it was the shoes. Because, really, when had he ever been taller than me? "Aren't you going to say something?" he asked, green eyes pleading.

"Not here," I whispered.

I thought he was going to make a scene, but all he did was nod. "Okay."

We both walked back together, just a space apart.

I broke into the cold air just as he did. "You should be glad that mom and dad aren't here."

"Did you cover for me?"

He stared at me in surprise, eyes widening slightly. "Do you really need to ask?"

"Well, did you?"

"Of course. It's you, Annabeth." I was going to ask what he meant, but he seemed tense enough, jaw clenched as if he was refraining from lecturing me. His finger poked my bandaged cheek gently, yet caressing in a way. "What happened to your face?" I crossed my arms, leaning back and forth on the heels of my shoes. He saw my stubborn refusal vividly, a flash of hurt expanding over his green eyes. Guilt churned in my stomach as he angrily pointed to the car. "Get in. _Now_." It came out like a growl, one that I flinched at.

Percy had always been a protective older brother, even more so than I ever remembered Malcolm being. That memory was vague and twisted, so I wasn't sure if it held any significance. Even Malcolm's eyes had shifted over the years. I couldn't even remember the exact shade of his hair, or how many spirals were captured in his hair. All I had to recall him was a cruddy photograph from his twelfth birthday, but even pictures fade after time. The edges around it were curling, turning into a copper brown. It was wrinkled from being jammed into my pocket so often, folded and smeared. There were other ways to remember my real brother at home, but my mother kept the door locked. She didn't let anyone go into it, but I didn't hold any resentment towards her for that. I wasn't even sure if that's what I wanted to.

I could see Malcolm, feel close to him from acting dead. His image became clear in my mind every time I selected a spot to lay down in. I could count his freckles whenever someone spotted me. I could detect the actual color of his grey and blue eyes, but only when a person proclaimed in a wavering voice that they didn't think I was alive. Only when the façade broke did he dissipate altogether.

Percy. He was my new brother now, my only brother. Every time a boy made an advance on me, he would always be there, glowering at them with dark eyes, daring them to move closer. Of course he ended up tipped into a trash can, but I appreciated the gesture anyway, and helped him clean the fruit and gum stuck in his hair. He was always there to take care of me, always there to worry, which was something he excelled at.

Percy was an exceptional worrier.

Whenever they found me like this, he'd do this thing (only over the phone) where his voice would get all panicked and breathy, which I found myself enjoying. When I finally saw him again, there'd be creases over his eyebrows, but they'd always relax when he caught glimpse of me. He'd wrap his arms around me tightly, swearing to never let go until I promised never to leave his sight again.

At that point, I'd shove him away and tell him I would do whatever the hell I wanted to do. For some reason, he always laughed, and I found myself laughing too.

Not this time. It was ugly. His green eyes were filled with pain, almost like he expected me to actually find me dead when he saw me again, the air void from my lungs.

I swallowed down a fruitless retort, and instead pulled myself into the back seat, huddling the farthest away from both of them. Thalia met my eyes through the mirror, her lips pulled into a tight line. She didn't speak. Didn't even comment. Just a cool, yet burning silent treatment that sent a pang through my stomach. She never spoke when heated. The only time she'd ever given me the silent treatment was when I attempted (unsuccessfully) to get back into contact with Luke Castellan again. That was two years ago, when I had been naïve enough to believe he was the boy I had grown up with.

But this was now.

They both hated me.

I hung my head near my knees, chewing anxiously on the inside of my cheek until it ached.

I didn't want them to be concerned.

I didn't want Percy to come after me.

I didn't want them to care.

I still lavished in every time he came to rescue me. It was disgusting, and I was pathetic for acting (or sometimes feeling) content when he showed up to save me from whatever person I had become. He brought me back from the edge, and all I felt afterwards was frustration. I didn't want him to, but yet I did. I was frightened of what I might do if he weren't there to yank me back, but at the same time, I wanted to see.

Did that make sense? Probably not.

The empty spaces where words had ceased were just filled with tension.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean for it to..."

Percy's words cut me off, no emotion intertwined with his sentences. "You're not sorry. Wanna know how I know? Because you're just going to keep doing it over and over. I give up, Annabeth. I don't know how I can keep doing this anymore. You're my _sister_-" his voice broke off at the word. "I have to keep you safe, but I don't know how to." He laughed humorlessly to himself. "How can I possibly save you from yourself?"

"It's his anniversary," I snapped, not wanting to hear anymore. "How did you expect me to react?"

Another silence.

"I am sorry," I repeated. "Not for doing it, because like you said...It's not over. I am sorry for worrying you. I didn't intend for that."

"How did you expect me to react?" he mimicked, raking a hand through his hair. "I'm fifteen, Annie. I shouldn't be ripping my hair out with worry for you."

"He's right," Thalia chimed in, voice monotone. "We all know that this is a time of year that's rough, but you gotta find a different way to cope."

"Yeah, okay," I muttered, opening the door as soon as we pulled in the driveway. I slammed it behind me, but not before I heard _'something has to be done about her.'_

I ripped open the door, shrugging off my shoes. Four steps padded excitedly in the room. Mrs. O' Leary was big now, not the puppy I remembered her as. No longer were her ears bigger than her body, but rather, her entire body practically bigger than myself. She let out a deep 'woof' before charging me and covering my muddy face with wet kisses. I laughed weakly, shoving her snout gently away. "Ew!" I squealed. "Get away from me so I can wash dog drool off my face."

Mrs. O' Leary wagged her tail, just as a light turned on. My mother sat there, arms crossed.

I blanched, heart lurching. "Mom. I thought you were at work."

"I was, but it became too hard for me. I decided to come back home." She took sight of my appearance, eyes widening slightly at my dirt-covered body and tangled hair. "Where on Earth have you been, Annie?"

"Annabeth," I hissed venomously, fed up. "If you didn't want to name me Annabeth, then you should've just signed freakin' Annie on the birth certificate." I threw up my arms, storming off the kitchen. She followed right in tow, practically walking on my heels. Mrs. O' Leary, oblivious to it all, happily marched along with the train. I opened the refrigerator, (perhaps a little too harshly) and grabbed a granola bar from out of its container.

"We are not finished with this conversation." I neared the edge of the kitchen, but her body blocked my escape route. I clenched my teeth tightly, trying not to snap further. It would just make it worse for Percy and I. The last thing I wanted to do was to get Percy into trouble for _my _multiple mistakes, or was it already too late to keep him out of it? The door slammed, and in Percy sauntered. Her glare turned to him, instantly causing him to cringe. "And you! Where have you been?"

We both glanced at each other. I unwrapped the bar, taking a bite. My mother's glare turned to rust, as if my taking a bite of food was an act of defiance.

"I, uh," Percy muttered, green eyes conflicted. He took a sudden interest in the floor, empery hair hanging over into his line of vision. "Can we talk about this in the morning? I'm sure we're all very tired and everyone would be feeling much better after a good sleep."

Athena's frown faltered.

Percy always had a way with her, like my mother always had a soft spot for him. She might've seemed wary at first, but that was only the wounds from our most recent loss acting up. Now the deep stabs had faded into scars, but surely they still hurt every once in a while.

His voice dropped lower. "We've all had a hard time today. We should sleep it off."

Athena finally nodded, though I knew she wanted to press further. It was just in her nature. "That does sound plausible. We'll discuss your punishments in the morning." She finally brushed a blonde curl from out of her eye, nodding at us meaningfully, then strutting back to her bedroom proudly, as if her torn bathrobe was a cocktail dress and her slippers were a pair of stilettos. Percy was always able to strum all the right cords to get out of any trouble we ever get in, while I just played out of key.

Our mother's departure just left us alone.

"Thank you, Percy."

"Yeah, well," he brushed it off. "We both know you're too alike to agree on something."

I ran my fingers along his hand. "Not just that," I murmured. "For always being there for me. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here, and that scares me."

He nodded, finally pulling me into a tight hug. "I know it does. I didn't mean what I said in the car- any of it. I'll always protect you."

"Why?" My voice was hoarse as tears flooded my vision.

He grinned, pulling away. "Because you're my _sister_."

Why did his eyes look so hurt when he said that word?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know this chapter is crappy, but I didn't have time to rewrite it since I put it off until the last day. I've decided that the update day for this story will be every Saturday. Reviews are always appreciated! I'd love to hear your thoughts! Hopefully I'm making this different than "A Troubled Boy With Green Eyes." I'll accept mostly anything in a review, so I'd really like to see what you think of it so far. **


	7. Chapter Six

**A Thousand Years:**

**Chapter Six: ****Percy's P.O.V: **

I began my ascent on the stairs slowly, almost reluctantly. I wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone right now, especially not after the events of last night. Thankfully, it was the afternoon and the school day was completed. Despite how terrible things were going at home, there was no way I would ever prefer high school over home. I abruptly found myself slamming into someone, my shoulder touching the plush towel. I smelled the warm, clean smell of someone who had just taken a towel. "P-percy?"

I flushed as I blinked up at a flustered looking Annabeth, whose clothing was merely a thin, blue towel that hugged around her body tightly. Her blonde hair was wet and brushing up against her cheeks. She was grasping onto the front of the towel, but all that did was make the neckline slope dangerously low. I blushed further, averting my green eyes. _Kill me. Kill me right now. _I suddenly realized I had been staring at my sister far longer than I should've, and glanced away at a picture on the wall, almost like I had been interested in it. "Uh, sorry," I managed to slur awkwardly.

Annabeth had gone rigid in her, er, choice of clothing. "You're home early today," she choked out, voice hoarse. If I was embarrassed, it was obvious that she was ten times even more so. She pulled it up a little more, taking a few steps back away from me.

"Yeah," I replied hastily. "Tutoring went quicker than I thought it would."

"Oh..." I expected her to say something exciting, but all she finished with was, "That's good."

"Yeah," I echoed.

Could I be anymore weird?

She brushed past me, her bare feet walking to her room. "So I'm gonna go get dressed."

"Okay," I responded, like it was totally normal to watch your sister's curves disappear from behind a doorway. I let out a strangled sounding sigh when she left, my shoulders slowly relaxing from the stiff form they had gone in. "That would probably be best," I answered to no one. I shouldn't have been so self-conscious around her. After all, I was her brother. I sighed further, opening the door to my room. _And that was the problem. _

_. . . _

When I walked down to go watch TV, she was seated there, hair still damp, but thankfully completely dressed in baggy pants and a large hoodie that reached down to her thighs. Her grey eyes glanced up at me, but she didn't tease me or comment about how love-struck (creepy) I looked standing there. I expected her to call me a pervert, or in the very least yell at me, but she didn't. Annabeth remained silent, and that threw me for a loop. I knew how to deal with a bantering, condescending Annabeth, but not the silent and stoic one that I was faced with right now.

Dad had already left for work, while our mother was typing quickly away at her computer above the kitchen counter. She typed fast, but you should've seen Annabeth do so for our projects. She was wicked fast, the keys practically flying off the laptop.

"Hey." I took a seat next to her. "What are you watching?"

She shrugged, flipping away to the next station. "Nothing."

"Oh." I let out a painful breath.

We fell into _another_ thick and tense silence. It filled up the room, practically strangling me in the process.

"Sorry about this morning," I finally apologized in a stutter, shoving down any lingering humiliation. "I didn't mean to walk in on you or anything."

That caused the corner of her lip to lift up. "Don't worry about it," she admitted. There was a silence. "Pervert."

Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. "Jerk."

"I'd rather be a jerk than a perv, Pervy Chase."

I glared at her, but it was light-hearted. I was just glad she wasn't angry with me anymore, especially after the tension that resounded last night. Speaking of which, Athena still refused to bring it up, which was odd. She had been the one screaming her head off to tell her the truth last night. Maybe she just didn't want to know anymore, and that was fine by me. I didn't particularly want to tell her either, but it looked like I didn't have to.

I nudged her shoulder after watching my sister flip aimlessly through channels. "Gimme the remote."

"No."

I huffed, crossing my arms in protest. "You're not even watching anything!"

"So? I'm going to pick something eventually."

I let myself flop down to the couch, fiddling with the rips on my jeans. Five seconds passed. Then ten. Then twenty. Growing fed up, I made a wild reach for the controller. She held it at arms length, smiling smugly as I struggled to make a grab at it.

"Stop it!" she yelled as my fingers finally connected with the plastic, but I could tell she was grinning. "It's my turn, Percy!"

"You haven't been watching anything for the past five hours!"

"You mean five seconds?"

"UGH ANNABETH UGH."

I heard a file slap against a wooden desk along with Athena cutting in heatedly from the kitchen, "Enough! Stop behaving like children! You're both in high school, and I need to get _some_ work done."

She opened her mouth to get the last word, but after a wary look to the kitchen way, her mouth smartly clamped shut. So as a result, Annabeth stuck her tongue out at me, a favor which I returned. She finally put me out of my misery and clicked on Nickelodeon, just in time for _Legend of Korra _to start playing. I eagerly sat up as the beginning began credits flashed against the TV, causing Annabeth to snort in response. Already enthused with the show, I brushed her sarcasm off.

She plopped in front of me, nearly blocking my view of the show itself. Her feet rested on the odium, while her head practically rested in my lap. "Braid my hair," she commanded.

"Why?" I complained.

She threw a hair band at me, smirking. "Because I don't know how to, and I let you watch _Legend of Korra_."

Disgruntled, I let out a faux sigh, but decided to do so. I didn't want to seem too over-eager. When we were younger, I was obsessed with braiding. It all started when Thalia made me try it on Annabeth. To be honest, I found the action relaxing. I knew how to do it all; whether it be a fish-tail, a French braid, or even a German side braid, I was the one to go to. Annabeth, on the other hand, didn't know how to braid at all, so practically every morning before school, she made me do her hair. One of Annabeth's friend's named Nico called me gay for doing so. "Fine," I conceded, parting her curly sopping hair into three sections. I wrapped each one around the other tightly, occasionally glancing up to see what was happening on the large screen television.

I felt Annabeth shiver as my fingertips brush against the back of my neck. It didn't feel unnatural for her to be pressed against me, practically curled up on my slim chest. Her eyes were drooping, and I knew she had to be exhausted.

I questioned, "Why don't you go take a nap or something?"

She shrugged half-heartedly. "Homework."

"It's only four."

She rolled her steely grey eyes, barely sparing me a glance. "Unlike you, Seaweed Brain, I do my homework the moment it's assigned."

I brushed a strand of hair from her face, intertwining it with the braid. "Don't be a meanie." There's was a dragging silence. Commercials began to play across the screen. "Are you okay now?"

I felt her stiffen in my arms. She sat up, put I didn't remove my grip. "I'm fine, Percy."

"Look, mom doesn't want to talk about it anymore. But I do." I didn't really, but I couldn't let this go on unhinged.

"I don't."

"I know you don't, but I need to hear you say the words."

Her jaw jutted as she turned to look at me, sending a cautious glance towards the kitchen where our mother was seated. "Hear what words?"

"That you won't do it again."

Her fist clenched in her lap. She leaned further away from me, like my very touch scalded her. "I'm sorry. I already said so. Why can't you just drop it?" These words were intertwined with familiarity. It seemed like we had this conversation every other week, on Malcolm's anniversary especially. I didn't blame her for being sad, but there was a difference between missing your brother and total _recklessness_.

"Because your my sister, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"Nothing will," she hissed, voice dropping further to contain the anger that was wavering in her tone. She added something further. "And last time I checked, I'm not actually your sister!"

That hurt. A lot. I hadn't expected her to say it, so it was like a blast of cold air to my face. My mouth fell open, and I could see her expression morphing to shock. Yet at the same time, a mixture of relief ran through me. We weren't really related. She wasn't actually my sister. We would, and never would be, linked by blood. Just by law. That's all that kept us connected as siblings. Which meant I could love her. It meant that I didn't curse myself for thinking things that I shouldn't be thinking.

"Percy, I-I didn't mean-"

My green eyes flashed frostily. "What do you call last night?"

She climbed up from the touch, shoving off my hesitant touch. "I said I was sorry."

"Maybe sorry isn't enough!"

We both stared at each other, too heated to think clearly. "Why do you even care?"

"Because you're my sister," I repeated, like always. Apparently that wasn't the right thing to say. Her eyes darkened, and she turned away. This time, instead of looking irritated, she simply seemed put out.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I'm your sister."

She walked from the room before I could say anything else, and I was far too stunned to make an attempt to stop her.

At Annabeth's departure, Athena poked her head in. Her eyes were troubled, but determined. She planted a hand on her hip, smoothing out her narrow, business-like skirt. "What is going on with her, Percy? She doesn't even talk to me anymore. I thought you'd manage to get something out of her, but I guess not."

I shook my head, black hair swaying across my eyes. "I don't even know, mom. She's just..."

She crossed her arms, titling her head to the window. "I know Malcolm's death was and still is very difficult for her. It's hard for me. Everyone that knew my son has a rough time, but none of us are as troubled. Her therapy hasn't been working, and all the medication does is make her tired."

I slumped against a seat on the kitchen table. "What do the doctor's even say she has?"

Athena tapped her long fingernails in a recurring pattern, body form heavy and tired. "They think she has nothing except teenage angst, which isn't uncommon. Dr. Apollo even admits that he thinks she's faking it."

My head shot up, expression quizzical. "Faking it?"

Athena smiled wryly. "It's her way of dealing. Instead of crying, she pretends to be dead, just like her brother. It's her way of being connected. It's not something that can be diagnosed, nor is it something that can be treated with a container of pills. It's something that she has to solve on her own." She planted a firm hand on my shoulder, just like she did all those years ago. "Don't beat yourself up over this, Percy. You're not responsible for my daughter, I am. Every time she disappears, I do expect you to look for her, but I don't expect you to be on guard all the time. It's not your fault. Believe me." Her eyes were so sincere that the weight on my chest couldn't help but settle.

"Okay."

Athena kissed my forehead. "I love you, Percy."

"I love you too, mom."

Athena's eyebrow suddenly arched, her sad smile twisting into a amused grin. "And I do know how much you love Annabeth." It was a normal statement for a mother to tell to her son about his sister, but I couldn't help but hear a deeper meaning behind those words.

My eyebrows furrowed, lips parting. "Huh?"

She ruffled my raven hair, adjusting a few strands so my vision was cleared of dark tendrils. "You know."

The words died in my throat.

. . .

I closed my locker, conversation with Athena already forgotten. "Bruh."

"Bruh."

"Bruh."

"Bruh."

Me and Grover stared at each other seriously before bursting out into a fit of laughter. It was our saying, you know? The little inside joke that friends have with one another, created on a whim of idiocy and being dumb-asses.

"Maybe bruh can be our always," he exclaimed, causing us to fist-bump. Yes, we were immature. We were brandish and losers, but I didn't mind the slightest bit. I used to, back when I actually cared what the pretty girls thought of me, but now I couldn't be bothered with it. I slung an arm around Grover as we walked down the halls of Goode high school, the worst school ever invented.

Of course, Annabeth had no trouble with it. Every time I agonized over it, she'd look at me in bewilderment. The teachers loved her. She wasn't out-spoken, so she never got into trouble for talking too much. Her grades were all past ninety-fives, and she still managed to excel on the volley-ball team. Annabeth didn't have much friends since she was near being a mute, but it didn't appear that she minded. (Plus, in my opinion, all the other girls were just jealous of her).

Annabeth was on the newspaper club, the character club, the future leaders club, and any other club that you could name. She was one of those well-rounded people that did exceedingly well in everything. I knew exactly how all those envious girls felt, because I was jealous. I wanted my grades to be straight As, yet still be in every club and sport imaginable. But that just wasn't me. I was barely pulling Cs to begin with. Bad grades meant no sports, and none of the clubs at school interested me. Yearbook club? I didn't trust myself with school-ensured technology. Art club? I didn't have an artistic bone in my body. Chess club? I never gotten the hang of it. Checkers all the way. I mean, really. Checkers is so simple.

In middle school, Athena and Fredrick hadn't really cared that I ignored every club. They learned a long time ago that pressuring me about grades only made me do worse, so they backed off. But in high school with my future riding on my ass, they buckled me down a little. They got me a tutor, but no matter how hard I tried, my grades never seemed to budge. Athena used to complain, but now all she wanted me to do was pass. A passing grade meant no summer school. A passing grade meant actually going to college. Maybe not an ivy-league school like Harvard, but a community college at best.

Grover's crutches tapped off against the floor. He was a cripple, a nerdy one, and everyone always picked on him for it. Because I defended my best friend, I was immediately thrown on their hit-lists. Tripped in the hallways, messages taped to my back, etc, etc, etc. The usual stereotypical bullying you think only existed in movies. Apparently at this school, everything was a free-for-all.

We slipped into homeroom just as the bell rang.

Annabeth was seated next to Juniper (the one-sided love of Grover's life) and Katie Gardner. A book was in her hand, blonde curls splayed against her thin and narrow cheek bones. Her grey eyes glanced up briefly as I took my usual seat behind her, Grover plopping down next to me.

"Did you hear about Josie?" Juniper chirped in. "Oh, his eyes. They _melt_ me."

Katie nodded eagerly, while Annabeth lifted a disbelieving eyebrow.

Josie Banks was this all time player at the school. He was a Sophomore, and the most arrogant bastard I have ever met. He slept with girls left and right, but still had enough time to be one of the most popular guys in the school. Almost every day he took the liberty of shoving me into a locker. I didn't know what girls saw in him- were they attracted to big headed jerk-offs?

"Oh my god, I know," Katie agreed. "So hot."

Annabeth's eyes met mine. _Kill me, Perce_ her grey orbs seemed to be saying. _End my suffering_.

I shrugged, grinning crookedly. "Have fun," I mouthed before turning back to Grover.

"Juniper's so pretty," he complained in a low voice. "Why does she have to be so pretty?"

Juniper had long brown hair, dip-dyed tinges of green at the end. Her eyes were the color of ferns, coated in sparkly emerald eye shadow and curled eyeliner. She was petite and small, but I never underestimated her. The girl had a fiery temper, and wasn't afraid to unleash it. That made it hard for Grover to speak to her. My goat-like friend was always so timid, shy, and impassive. He often said the wrong things at inappropriate times, his little beard quivering with every word.

"She is pretty," I agreed. "Why don't you just ask her out? The worst thing she can do is say no."

He let out a squeak. "No way. She'll obliterate what little self-confidence I have left. I can't."

"Want me to ask her out for you? It'll be a little elementary school-ish, but I don't mind."

His cheeks burned. "No! That would be mortifying."

"A note, then? Check yes for like, check no for ew?"

He slapped my shoulder. "You're a jerk, Percy."

"That is his specialty," Annabeth cut in, doodling gently on the edge of her homeroom folder. It seemed she had grown fed up of Juniper and Katie's conversation and had dropped it entirely.

I prodded her in the head with a pencil five times. She turned to glare at me, but a flash of red hair cut off her vision. Rachel sat down at the other side of me, causing Annabeth's expression to sour almost instantaneously. Anger, which I never quite understood, was edged over in those stormy eyes of hers.

Rachel was my closest girl friend. Not girlfriend, but friend as in a girl. I'll admit, she was gorgeous. Not that super-model type, but beautiful in a short and adorable way. Rachel Elizabeth Dare had fire truck red hair, and freckles that danced along her nose and cheeks whenever she smiled. And she did grin. A lot. It was a goofy smile, not a plastered one. A smile too large for her face, but suitable all the same. Her clothes were always stained with paint, while her red hair was always frizzy and unkept. Her hair was bigger than her small frame, and her green eyes had tints of brown to them. She was..._alive_, if that was the best word to describe her. _Definitely alive. _Her eyes were always bright, and that stunning smile never seemed to disappear.

"Hey, Percy," she took the empty seat next to me. "Hey, Grover." She met Annabeth's gaze. It was obvious that Annabeth detested Rachel, though she never gave any reason as to why. While most girls went running at the sight of Annabeth's glare, Rachel always took on her intimidating stares with a cheerful attitude. "Hello, Annabeth."

"Hi." Annabeth's voice was dry.

Grover slid further down into his seat, almost expecting World War II to break out. "Oh, dear," he muttered nervously.

Rachel's hair hung over her eyes. "What have you been up to?"

Annabeth shrugged. "Nothing." I could tell she wanted to add something snarky, but I was glad she managed to bite her tongue.

"Sounds fascinating."

This time she opened her mouth to say something. "Better than anything you could ever produce."

My mouth twisted into a scowl while Rachel fidgeted uncomfortably.

The bell rang.

Rachel bounded from her seat to art to avoid anymore irritable conversation, while I trudged up to Annabeth. I tugged on her arm as she collected her books. She looked up at me innocently. "Yes?"

I frowned at her. "Okay, what is your problem?"

This seemed to get her attention. "Excuse me?"

"You know," I emphasized.

"I really don't."

"Just quit being a jerk to Rachel," I finally burst out, aggravated with her around-the-bend attitude. "I don't know what's been up with you lately. She's my friend."

Her eyebrows narrowed. "Little more than friends if you ask me," she whispered.

"_What_?"

Annabeth shook her head, curls bouncing. "Nothing." Her anger suddenly turned sweet. She smiled all sugary, almost as if she were mocking me. "I'll see you in gym."

She left then, leaving me unable to defend Rachel further. I turned to Grover, face quizzical. "What was that all about?"

He was chewing on his pen worriedly. "I don't know. You better watch out in gym."

"Yeah," I agreed after feeling a pang of hurt. "I'd better."

"After all," he deduced, "_Hell hath no fury like a women scorned_."

"Gee, thanks, _bruh_. That makes me feel so much better."

We stepped across the threshold, joining the horde of students strutting down the hallways. "What are friends for?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hope you all had a great Halloween! Mine was awesome; (I absolutely LOVE Halloween) I was Bloody Mary one night then Annabeth the next. I always love making my face look all bloody, and my house really creepy. That's really the Halloween spirit, right? I went trick-or-treating (let's be for real: you can never be too old for trick or treating) and then handed out candy. It was awesome. **

**Back to the story- I know it's slow so far, but I wanted to introduce more characters. There also will be no HoO characters in this story. Just the original crew. **

**We made it to a hundred reviews. Thanks so much! **

**But, as always, more reviews are always appreciated! :D**


	8. Chapter Seven

**A Thousand Years:**

**Annabeth's P.O.V:**

**Chapter Seven: **

Lunch was edibility passable, but my stomach churned nauseously at the very idea of eating my food. I planted my tray down on the table, pulling out a chair and resting my sore legs. I tugged on the edge of my braid, wiping the sweat that coated my flushed cheeks and burning forehead. I took a small bite out of the grilled cheese, chewing it agonizingly slow. It felt like swallowing dry ice when I finally managed to scarf down the content with a chug of cold water. I gnawed on my lip, grey eyes nervously darting around the cafeteria. Percy wasn't here yet, and neither was Rachel.

I hadn't intentionally aimed for Rachel's face in dodge ball, but of course, Percy blamed me anyway. I didn't mind the fact that he had a friend of the opposite gender. Good for him. Way to expand his preferences. What bothered me was the undeniable fact that he obviously preferred the ginger over me. Who wouldn't? Rachel was always so smiley and happy, and didn't go wandering into incoming traffic. She was always positive, and even on her upsetting days, she still managed (or at least attempted) to crack a joke and pull a little smile for her friends. She was selfless, and I was nothing but. I was selfish. I put myself and needs in front of everyone else's. I knew this, but I hadn't paid no mind to it until Rachel Elizabeth Dare stepped into the picture.

Suddenly...Percy was happier. More lively. He slept less, always eager to scramble for the phone whenever she called. He claimed he didn't like her like that, but I knew better. Rachel _adored_ my brother, and he admired her right back. The boy was just too oblivious for his own good.

I was envious of her, a burning red kind. Not just green with jealousy, but a darkening crimson. I would never admit it out loud, but Rachel was the better version of me. The girl I might've been if Malcolm hadn't been killed. The girl I might've been if I wasn't so painfully naïve back then. She was the women I aspired to be, yet unattainable to the person I was now.

I chafed my hands together, steely eyes straining at Percy's usual table worriedly.

Juniper pulled the seat next to me open, resting downward. Her lips pulled up slightly at me, a mixture of disappointment and patronization.

"What?" I demanded heatedly. "It was an accident!"

"Uh-huh." She clicked her tongue in disbelief. "You gave her a bloody-nose. With a _plush ball_. How is that even possible?"

"Accident," I repeated, insinuating the word meaningfully. "I wasn't even aiming for her nose!"

Juniper snorted, her fork resting interwoven gracefully between her slim fingers. "You should still apologize."

I shot her a look of vexation, a flash of stubbornness moving my nose into a curved crinkle. "I'm going to when she gets back from the nurse." I tugged on the hem of my shirt, fiddling with the loose strands that stuck out from below. An aggravated huff escaped through my dry lips. The look of hurt, even betrayal, flashed through my mind. Percy's glossy eyes were washed over with confusion and anger after the ball had collided with its (accidental) target. We were playing dodge ball! She was on the other team! He couldn't have expected me _not_ to get her out. I crossed my arms tightly, trying to produce as much warmth as possible. For some reason, I felt peculiarly cold.

I had offered to take Rachel to the nurse after the first trickle of blood appeared.

_"Haven't you done enough?" _Percy had shot back, supporting a dazed Rachel with his skinny left arm.

Hot tears blurred my vision, but I blinked them back before they could leak. I wasn't going to cry- _especially_ not in school. I scooped up my books, leaving my uneaten tray of food abandoned. Juniper sent me a quizzical look, but I brushed her attempts off. I needed to get a grip. After that, I would find Rachel and apologize. Hopefully any tenseness between us (and more importantly, Percy) would be resolved after that. I wouldn't blame Rachel for holding a grudge. She had been ignoring my witty quips for years, (even though I knew they hurt her) but this time I had made her bleed. Literally. If she had done this to me, things would've gotten a lot uglier.

I brushed a stray curl out of my vision, scowling scornfully. It hadn't been entirely my fault. Rachel was the one who had stepped into aiming point of my killer arm.

"That's beside the point," I muttered to myself, standing impatiently in front of a vending machine. I set down my books, sliding them to the side. I fished around in my pockets for a few quarters, inserting four into the machine. They rattled as they reached their destination. My eyes skimmed slowly across the illuminated screen, trying to decide what to pick.

"Hey," a voice exclaimed behind me, nearly causing me to jump from my skin. "Mind speeding things up a bit?"

I turned with narrowed eyes, my irritation doubling as I recognized the broad figure. He didn't slink back, that cocky grin never leaving his face. Josie Banks. I never met him personally, (though now I suppose I have) but I basically knew everything there was to know about the Sophomore from what Juniper and Katie droned on about every class. I wasn't going to be dishonest- Josie wasn't bad looking. Quite the opposite, actually. He had a mop of disheveled dark hair, brown eyes practically endless. When I looked closer, flickers of light gold could be spotted in his pupils.

I didn't respond, clinking my top and bottom teeth together. Josie was the classic player, which reminded me all too much of my history with Luke Castellan, something that I didn't want to re-live whatsoever

"Girl, I'm talking to you."

I made it a point to select my drink as hesitantly as possible.

He let out a long, drawled out sigh before speaking once again. "Just because you're a blonde doesn't mean you have an excuse for being dumb."

That got me. I whirled around, jaw set in preparation for an argument. "Mind repeating that?"

He shrugged, posture horrible, a crooked grin masking any other thoughts. "Just stating some facts."

I glowered at him a few more seconds before finally turning back around. Nothing good would come from engaging conversation with that airhead. I selected a coke, biting down roughly on the inside of my cheeks to keep from commenting on the way he was obnoxiously tapping his foot.

"Do you mind?" I eventually burst, holding tightly onto my condensing beverage. "I've had a crummy day already."

His eyes seemed to flash with understanding. He raised a finger up to point at me excitedly. "Oh, you're that chick!"

Very specific.

Josie continued uncertainly, "Right? The one who got into a fist fight with that sexy ginger?"

"Perfect," I grumbled. "Just perfect. Does everyone think that's what happened?"

"Yep. I just wish I could've been there to see it. That would've totally turned me on." He let out a small sigh, eyes growing distant. "Oh, yeah. Two hot, sweaty girls rolling around, tugging on each other's hair..." his voice trailed off. "Damn."

"Good for your penis."

To my surprise, he chuckled. He gave me an approving finger, wagging it around in my eye-line. I resisted the urge to bite it, figuring somehow he would translate it into a signification that somehow related to sex. "I like you. You tell it like it is. Hot and cold at the same time."

My eyes morphed into slits. "Am I supposed to know what that means?"

"Your name's Annabeth. I'll have to remember that."

I jutted my jaw. This guy was pissing me off. "For what purpose?"

He winked at me, hand skimming the bareness of my arms like that would actually make me want _that_. "Just for future reference."

I longed to grab his arm and twist it as he departed, but managed to refrain. After he left, however, I let out a fierce kick on the undeserving vending machine, brushing away my frazzled curls as I did so. Huffing and puffing, I pretended the small bottle of water plastered on the front was his pretty boy face. After I got myself collected, and the memory of Josie was but faint, (which took a while) my legs numbly walked the short way to the nurse's office. I wished I could've gotten Katie or Juniper to go with me, but I knew they would refuse. Despite how kind they usually were, the idea of taking my blows wouldn't play right in their hopeful eyes of morality. I could see the scene playing out now. Rachel holding a paper towel to her nose, perhaps some ice to her possible blackening eye, and Percy glaring at me the entire time I stumbled and stammered over my only half-true words. He read through every lie I ever told, so how would this be different? Maybe he would forgive me after he saw me making any attempts, though somehow I doubted that.

I twisted the knob, entering before I could lose all my nerve.

The nurse glanced up. "Hello, honey. What can I do for you?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "I'm here to see Rachel."

"Ah." She nodded in understanding. "She's in the back room on the first cot." I mumbled a quick word of thank you before opening the other door to get to the infirmary.

I let myself lean against the wood. "C'mon, Chase," I encouraged myself quietly. "You can swallow your pride and get this over with." My breathing was shaky as I looked into the room, my feet stopping abruptly at the image. Percy and Rachel were each rested on the plush surfacing, faces a little too close for my reassurance. Rachel had a towel pressed against her nose, its green material slightly darkened from the red. Percy was grinning as they chatted, Rachel rambling about the latest art competition she had entered. They hadn't noticed me yet, and I couldn't help but feel a stir of fear when I realized that little detail. I could simply slip back out and they would never know I was here.

But could Percy forgive me?

I knew all I cared about was Percy's feelings for me, and not Rachel's pain, which probably dubbed me as the cruelest person alive, but I couldn't help the way I felt. I didn't detest Rachel, she just annoyed every fiber in my body. Whenever the girl spoke, I wanted to stab my ears with a pen. Or glass. Preferably anything sharp. Her voice wasn't scathing or nasally, but it was the way she wove her sentences together that I couldn't stand to appreciate. Her words were laid-back and careless, like she didn't have a single worry on her mind.

I had everything to worry about.

Rachel veered closer to him, shoulders brushing up against his. He bumped back, causing her to laugh and snort in unison.

"Quit it, Perce. Do you want blood to get all over your shirt?"

"Only if it's yours," he teased.

The sinking feeling in my chest stirred to life.

"Did you see Annabeth yet?" Rachel asked. I froze at the mention of my name, leaning farther into the shadows. If they caught me eavesdropping, undoubtedly he would hate me forever.

Percy shook his head, smile disappearing and twisting into a deepening line. "Not yet. I still can't believe she did this to you."

"I would normally say 'no blood, no foul' but..."

"Yeah," agreed Percy, gently tracing his fingers over dried blood near her cheek. I flinched at their sudden contact, watching as his finger slowly peeled it away gingerly. "What a horrible thing to do." I couldn't help but note the way she leaned inconspicuously into his embrace.

"I'm sure it was an accident," Rachel rushed to my defense, which only made me feel guiltier. "Annabeth's kind of hostile, but it's only because she cares about you so much." I watched as she smiled warmly, her emerald-like eyes blinking up at him. "Trust me on that one."

Percy's eyes softened, but they hardened shortly after. "That doesn't excuse the fact that she treats you like garbage."

Rachel shrugged. "I never said it did. I just don't hate her, no matter how much she hates me."

"Which isn't fair!" he protested, throwing his arms up in the air out of defeat. "I'm just sick of how Annabeth acts all the time, all brooding and resenting. Even when we're having fun, she manages to find something to complain about. She's my sister, and I love her, but sometimes I cannot stand how she always finds some way to put her own life in danger." He paused, letting out a deep sigh of air as his tension and frustration dissolved. I didn't realize my lip was bleeding until I tasted the salty metallic that filled my mouth. I cursed inwardly, bringing my index finger up to touch the warmth.

Did he really think that of me?

"Annabeth doesn't care about anyone but herself." This last sentence was in a whisper, but I managed to catch it.

As much as Percy's words hurt, I knew they were true. I cared, but I never truly did. I went around being reckless and stupid, brushing off anyone's attempts to befriend me. My mother's relationship with me had turned to thick ice, while my father and I skated dangerously around a thin layer. Percy always was there for me, no matter what, but I never really appreciated it. I shut my eyes, wiping away the thin wetness that had just dripped down my cheek.

"Whatever," I heard as I hastily walked away. "I don't want to talk about Annabeth anymore."

"We don't have to," came Rachel's reply. "How about your swim tryouts? Are you excited for-" I didn't get to hear the rest. I had already shut the door, allowing the ringing to echo through the rooms. I gritted my teeth together, hands balled into fists as I stormed down the hallway. I yanked out the braid Percy had done during English, angrily running my fingers through his handiwork.

I was Annabeth Chase-I didn't cry. I would _not_ cry.

So I didn't.

Over the years, I had acquired a skill. It was somewhat useful, allowing me to shut down pain at a mere command of my mind. I was as easy as sliding butter along bread, creamy and simple to slide a small knife through. I willed myself to hold my tears back, gritting my teeth together so they clicked, and waited for the overwhelming feeling to pass. When it did, I slowly released my hold on my poor jaw. I blinked away the cloudiness that had welled in my eyes, never allowing the tears to fall. If for some reason they slipped through my firm (but easily broken) mask of glass, I swatted them away like pesky flies. Nothing ever good came from showing weakness, something that I had learned a long time ago. They would stare down at you if you let yourself crumble to dust, looking through and analyzing every piece of rubble to use against you. Life was never my friend, and it sure as hell wasn't anybody else's. It was just a game, one that ended briefly. You either win, or you lose. Making my expression impassive and managing to smother down any source of emotions was something I took pride in. It took years to prefect, starting after Malcolm's funeral, or maybe before. I could scarcely remember anything other than that stench.

My older brother had his funeral in a Church. The Priest had burned this herb or plant (whatever it was) over the slick casket. It completely suffocated the room, smothering any fresh scented smells. It was supposed to be a form of comfort, a source that you could build yourself from, but all it made me want to do was plug my nose. It was so prominent, so scarring, that I could remember the smell even after all these eventful years.

I tapped my fingernail against the wall, took a deep breath, then turned around and walked back. I slammed down whatever words Percy had spoken about me, and just let them go. Not really. I never really let anything go. There was this trunk in between my heart and brain. Anything that I didn't want to recollect, I placed inside the trunk. It was full, overflowing, ostensibly filled to the brim with knee-buckling memories. I just stuffed everything in there, slammed on the lid, then locked it tight.

A lot of things ate me up every day. I had a past that I didn't like to think about, but those thoughts eventually managed to squirm into my consciousness. If you wanted to forget something, you couldn't. It would always be on your mind until the precise moment when you finally accepted it as a part of yourself.

My brother was dead.

My relationship with my parents were never the same.

Percy and I were growing distant with each passing day.

There was something else.

Something that no one ever knew about, not even Thalia nor Percy. I expected it to remain that way. If Percy was already buckling under the pressure of whether or not I was going to get hit by a car eventually, I couldn't imagine what would happen if my secret was released. I could never tell them. It was my responsibility, and mine alone. _My past doesn't define me_, I reminded myself. I had to stop permitting it acceptance to continuously remind me of the events that had taken place throughout my childhood.

I pushed through the door. The nurse glanced up confusedly. "Is there a problem?"

I shook my head, curls bobbing. I hated my curly hair, so frizzy and rebellious. If I had it my way, I would've cut it off a long time ago. "No. I just forgot my books."

Before waiting for her to respond, I pushed through the door so I was back in the cot rooms, allowing myself not to think as I strut through the open door. Rachel and Percy were still sitting on the cot, legs dangling off the side. Their shoulders were turned so they were facing each other, faces so close, lips nearly touching. They veered closer, Rachel's eyelids fluttering close, while Percy's green eyes were wide with shock. His cheeks were tinted an obtuse shade of red, commemorating exactly what he was thinking. Percy seemed embarrassed, but he made no attempt to push her away or jolt from her embrace. And why should he? He was my _brother_, and nothing more. He had no reason not to kiss her, and every reason to.

My stomach knotted. My stone mask broke apart with one single action. That was the problem with it; easy to put up, even easier to fall down.

Percy turned his head before their lips could collide.

Rachel pulled away, and they both awkwardly sat. It didn't last for long. They began enthusing into conversation seconds later, acting like that didn't just occur.

I waited a few more moments before clearing my throat.

"Hey." She was the first to speak. Her hand came up to scratch the back of her neck awkwardly, leaping to her feet. Percy's eyes were still unnaturally wide, looking trapped in dream-land. I scowled at them, trying not to allow my emotions get the better of me. "Annabeth." She coughed, finally pulling a half-smile to her lips. I could tell she was disappointed and mortified at the same time by the way I interrupted their almost-kiss. "Are you here to see Percy?"

"You, actually," I clarified, fingers drumming against the counter. _Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap._

She looked surprised. "Oh."

I sucked in a deep breath. "I wanted to apologize for, uh, hitting you in the ball with the nose. I didn't mean to."

Rachel shrugged, flashing off her indented dimples and whitened teeth covered by thin braces. I stared at her quizzically; I hadn't expected her to let me off the hook so easily. "Don't worry about it. Accidents happen."

I clenched my teeth together. It wasn't much of a relief that she had accepted my apology so easily. I had been bracing myself for an uphill battle with her, but yet again, she had managed to undermine me. All I wanted was for her to throw back everything terrible I had done in my face. I wanted her to stand up for herself, to play dirty just as I was doing. She liked me about as much as I liked her. The sad thing was, we probably would've been friends if it wasn't for me. She was kind and polite in the beginning, and I still had done everything I could do to wedge a chasm between Rachel and Percy. Ironically, I had unintentionally managed to distance Percy and I instead. "Yes."

Percy glanced up at me, and I stared back. He shrunk under my sudden sharpness, a wise decision on his part.

"We should probably get to class," Rachel cut into our mute conversation. "C'mon, Perce. We shouldn't miss math."

That was another thing I hated. How she said _we_ instead of _I_, almost as if Percy wasn't allowed to speak for himself.

_What do you care? _A voice in my mind that sounded a lot like Malcolm questioned.

_I...I don't know._

I couldn't be in love with him. It was silly and completely unethical. It was just wrong. What was wrong about it? Practically everything.

For one, what would my parents think? My mother would be disgusted. My father would be angry. All in all, they wouldn't approve of my feelings. Which was okay, I guess, because I didn't approve of them either. Percy would hate me. I would shatter our relationship completely. Even if it wasn't technically wrong, it would be viewed wrongly by society. It was illegal by law. So I scooped those thoughts up, and dropped them into the mental image of a trunk, a thick lock and key to match.

"Yeah," he agreed, voice thick with a spectrum of different feelings.

"I'll help you with your homework during study hall if you'd like."

"That...would be nice." He paused, glancing at me wearily. My throat constricted. He told me he was doing fine in Algebra. Was that just a lie so he wouldn't be stuck with me anymore?

They both passed by me. Rachel was a little more upbeat as she walked by, a little bounce to her step, a shake to her hair. Percy was slower. As he passed me, his arm brushed against mine. When I looked up, his green eyes were pleading and searching.

I glared back.

Because I hated him.

Not Percy Chase himself as a whole, but rather, the feelings that he managed to stir beneath me. I didn't want to feel this way. I didn't want to think of my brother as a prize to be won. All I wanted to imagine him as was my sibling, though I had difficulty doing so. As I aged, I couldn't help the feeling that blossomed and grew within me. No matter what I thought, said, or did, I had to continue to be in denial. It was so painfully obvious, but I had to keep at it. _Deny, Deny, Deny. _

There was nothing wrong with me.

My brother wasn't dead.

I wasn't in love with my adopted brother.

_Pretend, pretend, pretend._

Pretending was my specialty.

. . .

If school had been terrible, home was worse.

I ignored Percy, shooting him daggers if he ventured too close. I knew it wouldn't be too long until he just dismissed my glowers, so I slipped from the house silently, hoping he wouldn't notice my absence. It was just us, and Percy had been given the task (by our father) of watching me. Which was stupid. I was fourteen. I didn't need a baby-sitter, especially not Percy. Once he had almost set our house on fire. How exactly did that qualify him as a trusted watcher? He had tried cooking a frozen pizza with the cardboard box still intact! If it wasn't for me, our house would've been burned and charred to the ground. I leashed Mrs. O' Leary, sliding my hand through the material. I wandered over to Thalia's usual meeting place, wondering if she was there. Judging by the Mrs. O' Leary's ears had perked up excitedly, she was.

I caught sight of her. The sky was cloudy above, but still brighter than my eyes. She was resting on the fence, blowing smoke circles.

"Hey."

"How was your day?" she asked.

"Bad," I admitted. "No, horrible. I gave Rachel a bloody nose."

Her stoic expression shifted into surprise, then admiration. "With your fist?"

I let out a weak laugh at that. Thalia had a habit of making me feel better, no matter what the day. Percy usually was good at that too, but lately it seemed that he was putting me down than raising me up. "With a ball. We were playing dodge ball."

"Is Percy mad at you?"

"It's kind of the other way around."

"What did Kelp Head do now?"

I slumped against it, scratching Mrs. O' Leary between the ears. "He almost kissed Rachel."

"Oh." I glanced up, only to see her trying to contain a smile. The muscles in her jaw kept twitching, the corner of her dark lips pulling upward. The only person who seemed to encourage the idea of Percy and I in a relationship was Thalia. Even at the beginning, when Percy wasn't a Chase, she would make little remarks about how adorable we looked together.

I grumbled, "It's not funny." I rested my head against the fence, wrapping Mrs. O' Leary's chain around a dislodged piece of wood. "I'm just having a hard time lately. Everything's too confusing."

"Duh." Thalia blew a smoke ring. "Life is supposed to be confusing. It's a tangled, broken maze that you're expected to get through. The only problem is everyone expects to come out unscathed, when that evidently isn't going to happen."

"You should be a philosopher," I teased, running my hands up and down Mrs. O' Leary's slick, dark fur.

"Shut up, Annie." At those words, I hopped up on the fence easily, though it shook under both of our weight. We rested in silence, just watching the clouds billow above. It wouldn't be long before droplets began to fall from the sky. I shivered underneath my thin jacket as a gust of freezing blew, and intently looked as Thalia curved her lips into the shape of an 'o' to release grey smoke. "You wanna do something?"

I looked at her. "Like what?"

She shrugged, rain splattering on her cheek. "Like anything. Remember when we were kids and used to dig through people's garbage?"

I laughed at that. "Technically I was a child, so I have an excuse. You were fourteen."

She raised her hands in defense, pelting down her cigarette in the process. Her Marilyn Monroe lighter was faded and peeled, but she always refused to get rid of it. Some sentimental value, I guess. "Hey! We made big bucks with that."

I rolled my eyes. "The most money we made was twenty dollars on a cracked plate, and we blew it all on McDonalds."

She smiled wryly, but her eyes seemed sad. "Good times."

Another pause.

"Want to give me some advice?"

She snorted. "Me? Advice?"

I shrugged. "You're like my therapist." She scoffed bitterly at that, her dark hair growing damp from the rain. I didn't think either of us minded, Thalia especially. She absolutely loved storms, never passing up an opportunity to stand in the midst of one. "Tell me how to fix it."

"I'm not your mom."

"You're the best I got."

She stared at me carefully. "What about your actual mom?"

I chafed my shoulders, rolling them uncomfortably. "My mom and I...it's complicated."

She twisted toward me, planting her hands on my shoulder. Her nails were painted a dark shade of blue and black, chipped along the edges. I could count her scars that she clumsily tried to hide from makeup. Her mother, Beryl Grace, was never the kindest. Now that Thalia was old enough to defend herself against the women, it was a different story. Except when her mother's boyfriends came over. That was the only exception. I knew that she was being abused, my parents seemed to vaguely, but Percy seemed to understand everything she said like it was a blink of clarity. He knew. It was a long time ago, but I knew Percy could still remember how his foster father had treated him.

"You want some advice?" Our eyes locked, the only other sound audible was the rain pattering on the rooftops. "You've got your entire life ahead of you. You can be anything you want to be. Your parents love you, Percy loves you, and you have a roof over your head. Don't take it for granted. I understand you're having a hard time, but this is only a small phase of your life. You've got, like, a thousand more years to go." She patted my shoulder firmly, her hair sticking to her wet cheek. "Quit thinking so much. Stop pretending like you're dead, because you are the most alive person I've ever met. Malcolm is dead, yes, but is this what he would've wanted for you? No. Here's how you're gonna fix it; stop being dead, and start living. Talk to your parents. Talk to Percy. Tell them how you really feel instead of pretending so much."

My breath was shaky. "I miss Malcolm."

She pulled me into a tight hug wordlessly.

I squeezed my eyes tightly as I buried my face into her leather. "You're my best friend, Thals. I hope you know that."

"Well, doy." She didn't speak for a moment. "Now get away from me before this turns too lesbian."

Way to ruin the moment.

. . .

I clobbered inside. Mrs. O' Leary immediately shook, spreading the water onto the carpet. I cursed, hoping it would dry before Athena and Fredrick would be home. I would hear an earful, and I wasn't at all in the mood for a lecture. I patted her on the head, sliding off my muddy sneakers and sliding them next to the glass door. Matting down my soaked hair, I smoothed my shirt and tried my best to look presentable. I had to do this before I lost all my nerve. I ventured up the stairs, approaching Percy's closed door. My parents had decided that Malcolm's room would remain untouched, so Percy got the tiny room down the hall from mine. It was small, almost like a closet, but he didn't mind the slightest. I suppose he was just glad to have a home.

I could hear music playing faintly from behind the wooden doorway. I dried my hair further, squeezing on the dampened ends. My curls were beginning to spring back into place, though they were half straightened by the steady rainfall. I rocked back and forth on the heels of my feet, perturbed by the thoughts that haunted my mind.

_Make things right_, Thalia had told me. _Talk it out._

I could only wish that the prospect of words could solve these complications.

Balling my hand into a shaking fist, I knocked on the door. Gently at first, then more urgent. My stomach twisted uncomfortably as the music stalled to an abrupt halt. Percy's door opened slightly, then more so as it parted from the threshold.

"Hey," I greeted, willing my voice not to tremble.

"Hi..." Percy sounded uncomfortable. "I thought you were mom. She was going to help with my algebra."

"Mom's not going to be home until seven," I explained. "Dad will probably arrive around six." I stepped across the door cautiously, expression timid. "I mean, _I_ could help you with your algebra."

He looked like he was about to say no. "Sure. But, uh, you're kinda dripping everywhere."

I flushed. "Oh, right. Thalia and I were watching the storm. I'll just go change real quick."

A small smile appeared across his face. "Pick up some pencils on your way."

"Losing them already, Seaweed Brain? It's only the beginning of the year."

His smile stretched further. "You know me, Wise Girl."

"Yeah," I confirmed. "I do." I stepped back out, slamming into the frame. "Ow!" Since when was I clumsy? "Um, be right back." He was too busy laughing at my incoordination to respond. I shut the door to my room, stripping down quickly. I swapped my wet clothes for a dry hoodie and sweats, grabbing a few writing utensils on my way out.

I slid into his room, taking my usual seat next to his wooden desk. "Ready?"

He sluggishly pulled out a crumpled piece of homework. "No, but Mrs. Dodds will kill me if I miss another homework assignment."

A emerald necklace was draped across his neck, dangling over as he leaned forward. I touched it gently, running thumb over the stone encircled by the silver. "Your mother's necklace?"

He nodded, suddenly breathless. "Uh-huh." I pulled my hand away, sensing his discomfort. At fourteen, I was mature at my age. Percy was too, but he couldn't control his facial expressions. Any emotions he felt was plastered across his face, like reading a children's book. He tended to be sad, then angry, before finally winding up happy and optimistic. "Before my dad left, he gave it to her as an anniversary present."

"Do you miss her?"

He let out a sigh. "Sometimes. There are some days when I forget about her entirely. Do you think that makes me a bad person?"

My eyes searched his. "Not at all," I whispered.

He coughed, turning the paper over. It was clear this conversation was over. I promptly felt guilty for even bringing the topic up. "Okay. X squared plus 7, Y minus 23 plus X." His eyebrows furrowed. "Huh? What are those weird squiggly lines?"

"It's pie, Percy."

He shook his head. "This doesn't make any sense."

"Sure it does." I pointed my pencil towards the parenthesis. "You distribute first."

His frown deepened, but then a victorious grin found way to his face. "That's when you multiply everything by the number outside the parenthesis, right?"

I nodded. After we had gotten through another five grueling math problems, (I had tried to keep arguing nearly nonexistent) Percy dropped his pencil and sank back in his chair. "Five minute break."

"Fine," I agreed quickly. Teaching Percy was agonizingly frustrating, especially since he forgot simple rules and variables after a mere two seconds.

I rocked back and forth on the chair, swallowing down other words that longed to claw their way from my throat. Instead, I settled with, "Are you mad at me?"

He turned to look at me, surprise scrawled across his face. "No. Of course not."

I sharply turned away from him, my stone mask breaking.

I took exhaled slowly, allowing my chest to rise and fall steadily. I swirled in the chair, finding myself looking into his green eyes once again. "Are you mad about the whole Rachel thing?"

A sense of realization dawned on his face. "I was at first," he admitted. "But I got over it. Especially since you took the time to apologize."

I stared down at the paper, clenching my hands on the striped fabric of my sweat pants.

Percy suddenly hesitated, blanching slightly. "I'm worried about you, Annabeth." He began slowly, expecting me to cut him off. I shut my eyes closed, expecting this. "I always have been, but you seem to be doing worse this year." Percy inserted a brief pause before continuing. "You stopped coming to dinner. Mom was home a couple times these weeks for dinner, and you know that's a rarity, but you never joined us. I know that ever since your brother died, you haven't been on the best of terms, but no one acts the way you do."

I nodded, holding back my tears.

"Listen," he said, voice softening. "I'm your big brother. You can tell me anything."

_No. Not about...that._

_Not about the way I feel for him. _

"If you need some kind of help, I can do something for you. I realize that it's not my burden to keep you out of harms way, but it is my responsibility to look after my little sister. If you think there's something wrong with you, then I want to know about it."

Suddenly, this all seemed like a very bad idea. I gnashed my mouth together tightly. Rather than it seeming like a heart-to-heart, it was molding into some absurd interrogation.

"Nothing's wrong," I admitted, "Other than my brother's death."

"No." He shook his head. "I don't think that's the only thing going on with you. Something else had to have happened for you to feel so scared all the time. I can see it, Annie. The fear reflects in your eyes."

"That's ridiculous," I stated, crossing my arms. "I'm not hiding anything."

I was in love with Percy, but I wasn't frightened by the love. I was ashamed, but not petrified.

I was terrified of something else. _Someone else. _The other thing that happened. The incident that I never had told anyone about.

But I was over that.

I was.

"The only thing upsetting me is Malcolm's death," I repeated robotically.

"I think you're using that as an excuse to cover up your other lie." He leaned closer to me, causing my heart to freeze-frame in my chest. "Tell me what's the matter. We never keep secrets from each other, or we never used to."

It was too much for me to take. He was too close to my face, much like how he had been with Rachel, breath fawning over my lips and chin. I suddenly understood the saying, 'too close for comfort'. My heart slowly began to beat again, this time pounding louder than ever before. My words caught in my throat, dying instantly. "I'm..."

Percy frowned. "You're what?"

Our faces were inches away from ours. I couldn't think, nor could I react.

My cheeks burned a wild crimson, while he finally seemed to process how close we had become.

"Annabeth?" he whispered, hand coming up to brush a damp curl away from my temple. I arched my body forward, and his lips brushed gently against mine. It wasn't the same. His lips weren't rough or demanding, but ginger and gentle. Flustered by how soft his mouth felt, my hands came up to rest on his shoulders. Three seconds passed with our lips just touching, scarcely moving.

There was a knock on the door.

We both jerked away simultaneously.

I looked at Percy with a shocked expression, while his remained completely puzzled, like he couldn't fathom what had just happened. As I finally started to replay the events, I stifled a gasp, trying to regain composure and catch my wobbly breath at the same time. We just kissed. It was a weak one, our lips barely touching, but it had counted. My hand came across my mouth, expression morphing into terror.

"Percy? Is Annabeth in there with you?"

Percy let out a choked noise as he began to breathe again. "Uh, yeah. She's helping me with my math homework."

He pulled open the latch, grinning at both of us. "Hey, kids. Glad to see that you're finally getting along. Have you eaten yet?"

Silently, I shook my head.

"How does chicken breast sound?"

"Good, dad."

His gaze flickered to Percy, looking concerned. "You okay, son?" He walked forward and placed a hand to his forehead. "You're all flushed. Are you feeling sick?"

Percy finally seemed to snap back to reality, clearing his throat. His green eyes seemed foggy and glazed over, mouth slightly parted open. "Uh, no. I'm just a little tired."

Fredrick shrugged, ruffling his adopted son's hair. "Take some NyQuil if your fever doesn't get any better. How was your day?"

"Different," Percy said, eyes glancing over to me momentarily.

A distressed cry welled up in my throat. Everything that I had tried to avoid had happened. "I'm going to go to bed."

"You're not eating dinner with us?" Fredrick asked, adjusting his glasses. Percy avoided eye contact with me, his green eyes staring harshly down at the floor.

"No," I murmured.

My father shrugged, oblivious to the event that had just taken place a minute ago. He grinned at Percy. "More for us men then."

Percy forced a smile.

"Night," I said, feet finding the way to my bedroom. I closed the door, then turned off the light. I practically collapsed onto my bed, homework left undone, something I never did. I draped the blanket over me, curling up into a ball-like position.

Guilty and confused, I began to sob.

The pillow muffled them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This chapter was so hard to write, but I managed to make it lengthy. I kind of hate this chapter. Annabeth is just so difficult to write for this story. Her freakin' emotions are all over the place. With good reason, although it's not mentioned yet. I have foreshadowed it many times. The 'incident' that she told no one about has something to do with her playing dead. And it does not to relate to Malcolm's death whatsoever. **

** Thanks so much for all reviews, follows, and favorites. Always appreciated. **

**A couple questions for you guys: What has been your favorite chapter so far in this story? ****What do you think I need to improve on? Any ideas for future chapters? Do you like how the story is going so far? Tell me in a review. **

**Another question: I've been considering changing the title. Should I? Any ideas if I do? **


	9. Chapter Eight

**A Thousand Years:**

**Percy's P.O.V:  
>Chapter Eight: <strong>**(Sorry this chapter is so short!)**

"Wait. _Slow down_."

I couldn't find it ethical that Grover could possibly suggest such a thing. If my words slowed down, so did my world. I had to get all the events out of my mind before they disappeared entirely, or consume the clustered emotions that were threatening to overtake me. Whichever came first. Grover's eyes were wide and brown as they analyzed mine, an orange beanie hat covering his pointy ears. He followed me along the hallways, his crutches causing consistent taps to ring along the hallways. The faster my speech went, the more confused, the quicker I walked. The quicker I walked, the louder his crutches slammed off the newly cleaned floor.

I rung my hands through my hair, tearing at the tendrils. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. She's my_ sister_."

Grover's eyes flashed sympathetically. He opened his mouth, almost indecisive about whether or not he should speak, but eventually did. It wasn't what I wanted to hear. Not by a long-shot. "You're not related by blood. You have to realize that _it is okay_ to feel things like that for her. She's not your real sister." I had envisaged that he would react in an expression of abhorrence, not even bothering to mask his objection by my statement. Maybe he even would've yelled in my face, voicing his revulsion, despite how shy he was. Which was fine by me. I needed a lecture. I needed someone to confirm that this was wrong; it had to be. I needed him to tell me that the pounding in my heart, and the longing for her gentle lips again was all just a sick, twisted delusion. I needed this because I wasn't sure if I would be able to withstand not kissing her again.

Goode high school was almost completely empty. Annabeth had avoided me ever since the kiss. I had almost gone up to her room after dinner, but her door was shut. Annabeth always slept with her door wide open, inviting, just in case I had a nightmare. It was a habit that never faded from childhood. Sometimes (though not so much anymore) I would crawl into her bed after waking up wet with sweat. Athena told us that as we aged, it wouldn't be appropriate anymore, so it all but ceased. She still left her door open, however, awaiting my imaginative arrival. Not last night, and that signified enough for me: s_he needed space._ While I respected her wishes, it still felt like a slap to the face.As I had gotten ready this morning, I had opened her door quietly. Her blonde curls were frizzy around her cheeks, and sleep-goo clung to the corner of her eyes. Definitely not the most beautiful I had seen her, but the most calm and tranquil. Annabeth was usually tense and stressed, no matter what the environment. It was different, refreshing, to see her completely relaxed for once. After watching her rest for a few more seconds, I decided that me watching her was creepy. Extremely creepy. Edward Cullen creepy. So I closed the door with a quiet clang, unable to face her quite yet.

Since Grover and I each couldn't drive yet, and there was no way 'in hell' (as Thalia poetically put it) she would dare wake up at such an ungodly hour, I had to tell him here. I couldn't way another seven hours to refrain from telling him all the emotions that had been bottling up inside me. I would've exploded. It was nearing six fifteen, and the sky was still dim and grey. The school only opened this early because of the winter sports tryouts that were beginning to make their appearances.

I followed Grover into the empty men's bathroom.

Her hair had been wet. I could remember that. The rest was a muddle of heated emotions, avoidance, and frustration. The little curl had brushed up against my burning cheek when she leaned forward, almost like it would sizzle from the contrast that we both produced. Her lips had been cold against mine, and maybe a little shaky, like she was unsure what to expect from our short-lived embrace. When we pulled away, her eyes were content, sparkling, and warmth had spread through me. It had withered away as her eyes morphed into shock and terror, hand planting across her mouth.

"So you kissed Annabeth," Grover stated. "And then your dad knocked on the door. You two pulled apart, and now we're here."

I nodded. "Pretty much, yeah." I was happy at first, but that all but lasted two moments before we both realized what our actions had signified. I chafed my hands onto my jeans, trying to warm up. Autumn was slowly shifting into Winter, and I wasn't ready for the darkness that snow would befall. I leaned up against the sink, watching Grover carefully. This wasn't how I imagined our meeting would go, but I kept my mouth shut.

"I don't understand the problem."

"What? Do you even understand the consequences of me kissing her could do to my family? Dad would kill me, Annabeth would hate me, and Athena would be too ashamed to even look my way."

He rocked back and forth, face thoughtful. "And if they don't? The way I see it, you have a few options here. Option number one; admit you love Annabeth. Tell her, and tell your parents. Then-"

"No." I shook my head wildly, heat flaring against my cheeks. The concept filled me with dread and embarrassment. I swallowed down the dry taste resonating in the back of my throat, shortly considering if I was going to dry heave. "I don't love her."

"Then why did you kiss her?"

"Because," I began hoarsely, "I have a sick fetish."

He snorted at that, morbidly amused. "A fetish? She's not your real sister. But if she was, then we'd be having a different conversation right now." He patted me on the shoulder, smiling softly. "Again, I'll repeat, _you're not related_."

I scowled at him. "You don't understand, Grover. By law we are. How could we ever be together?"

There was another brief silence before he broke it. "Yeah. Yeah, I see your point. If you really want to forget about this, which I disagree with, then just forget about it. Don't bring it up again, and most certainly don't kiss her again."

I looped my finger through the hole in my jeans, sighing gently. I looked in the mirror, staring at my restless green eyes, and the frown that played across my lips. For some reason, I seemed a lot older than I had been yesterday. Not wiser, but maybe a little less innocent. I turned the faucet, Grover's words ringing in my ears. I didn't want to tell my parents what I felt for someone who I was supposed to view as my sister. I didn't want to tell Annabeth how much I wanted to kiss her again, nor how much I wanted to wrap her in my arms and never let her leave. I didn't want to tell her how she had me wrapped around her tiny, little finger and she didn't even know it.

Most importantly, I didn't want to forget our kiss. I didn't want to continuously slam my feelings down for her to the point where they were nonexistent.

But I had to.

I promised Annabeth I would try and take care of her. Being with me? That wasn't what was best for her. Being realistic, there was a greater chance that it would tear our family apart until we were barely holding onto the seams that tied our love together. I couldn't do that to them. To her. They had all saved me. Is that how I would repay them? By going against everything that they had raised me to become?

"Besides," Grover finally spoke. "We're only fourteen. You've got plenty of time to figure that stuff out later on. You should only be worrying about how to breach the next map in Call of Duty."

The corner of my lip twitched up. "Yeah." My shoulders relaxed. "I'll just forget about it."

I was only fourteen.

My love for Annabeth was something future Percy would have to deal with.

Not today, and hopefully not tomorrow.

. . .

My plan to 'forget it' didn't even last past lunch.

I blamed how golden Annabeth's hair looked next to the window.

It was wrapped in a bun, little liters of curls escaping through her bound. I sat behind her, breathing in her gentle smell of honey. The sun shone through the window, igniting her blonde hair in a flourish of gold. Her collarbone shone more prominently as she turned to catch a better glimpse of the notes written across the smart board. Rachel sat in her usual spot next to me, frowning worriedly at me. Apparently I was being quieter than usual, and less lively. She told me so at the beginning of class, green eyes wide with concern. Grover helped me out with that, exclaiming that I was feeling ill. I pulled myself from my mind, straining my eyes to stare at Annabeth again. Her shoulders were tenser than they usually were, and she occasionally rubbed the slope with her hand, a soft wince tumbling from her lips.

"Did you pull a muscle?" I murmured the third time she seethed, but not that I was counting or anything.

Her voice cut off. I wanted to kick myself for saying something so stupid. Figures that the first thing I say to her after a long and awkward silence is 'did you pull a muscle?' It was a wonder she even allowed me to kiss her.

"No. Just slept weirdly on it," she responded in a discreet whisper.

"Oh. You should borrow the heating pad from mom when we get back home."

"Maybe," she mused quietly, voice indifferent and expression stoic. I rested my head on my two crossed arms, longing to melt into my seat.

Mr. Brunner launched into another humorous description of the Greek gods. Unlike my other classes, Mr. Brunner was actually an awesome teacher. He taught History, but took extra time on Ancient Greece, an interest of his. He was an elderly man in a wheelchair with wise brown eyes and a short brunette beard. I expected him to be strict, but he completely reverted my very notion with his interesting and spontaneous way of learning.

I tore off a small sheet of paper from my notebook, heart beating furiously in my chest. I scribbled it down quickly before I could lose my nerve, then poked Annabeth in the back with the pencil, just as the class erupted into excited chatter.

She frowned at me curiously. I handed her the note, and she took it inconspicuously.

I heard her unfold it.

_I don't want you to hate me. _

She stiffened further in her chair. I half expected her to crumple my note up, but instead she took out a pen. Annabeth slid it to me, grey eyes never leaving the teacher's rants.

_I don't hate you. _

_Then why won't you talk to me? _

_Because we're in the middle of class...? _

_You didn't talk to me during gym or lunch. _

_I didn't have much to say._

My fingertips clenched the sides of it, knowing that my eyes came off pained and hurt. My pencil came down to the paper, ignoring Grover's pitying glance. I was fed by the way she was completely brushing off my existence. Maybe it would be simpler to forget our kiss had ever happened, but it wasn't as if I ran away the second I laid eyes on her in the hallway. She was avoiding me, justifying her reasons by assuming that's what I wanted.

_Would you like me to be the first to say it? _

_Say what? _

That was another thing I was accustomed to her doing. Acting like an air-head, as if she couldn't decipher what I was implying. Annabeth was one of the smartest people I knew- maybe not the most careful- and it offended me to think she could merely pass this off as some 'dumb blonde' moment.

Fed up, I wrote down a quick note and hastily shoved it into her fingertips.

_We kissed. You can't just pretend it never happened._

I didn't even realize that class had ended until I watched students pile out of the door. I was completely numb, but my cheeks felt like it they were stinging. I hadn't expected that to hurt so badly, especially since I had already decided on what I was going to do. Forget it. I was going to forget it, but I couldn't pretend.

"Percy, my boy?" Chiron's voice broke me out of my thoughts. "Are you alright? Class has ended."

"Uh, yeah." I scooped up my books and shakily walked out of the door. "I'm fine."

_Watch me. _

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm sorry this is so short, but viruses bruh. ****Anyone know how to get rid of computer viruses? UGH, it's so annoying. On the bright side, I have a snow day today, and probably one tomorrow. **

**The reviews made me so happy, but I'll (hopefully) update sooner for more! :)**

**Here's some questions for you: favorite line from this story, what you think I need to improve on, and what you want to happen in the next chapter. **


	10. Chapter Nine

**A Thousand Years:**

**Annabeth's P.O.V:**

**Chapter Nine: **

I noticed the oddities in our personalities once he was dead, taken aback by how black and white our worlds truly had been. He was the better sibling, the one that knew how to raise someone upset up with just a singular, ginger touch. He was the one that stepped from the shadows and onto the spotlight without a sliver of hesitation, while my footing ceased the second my gaze fixated on the large light beam above me. He held his hand out for me, but I didn't take it. Instead I remained near the shadows, always slipping backwards into the corners of the room. Words never seemed to stop flowing from his excitable, tangible mouth, leaving me stuck being the brooding sister. The silent one. The sibling that never seemed to grin like he did. He left a blinding light wherever he went, while I left a mixture of darkness and pessimism.

We were two sides to the same coin. Different ages, but practically twins.

In every faded picture- there he had been, grinning, smiling, the future practically laid down perfectly in front of him.

Then he was flung through a windshield like a bullet, his body careening and rolling down into a nearby ditch. His arms had been twisted and bent into an unruly angle, neck broken. The impact had knocked his shoes completely off, cell phone lost in the collision. His future was gone. I would no longer see him smile. No one would.

I would have to fill in the spaces that he left. My silence had to turn to comforting words or a sense of compelling understanding-something that I had been unable to accomplish, leaving my failure collapsing down on the rest of the family. My mother turned vulnerable. My father turned to his work, rarely leaving the basement. I was left alone to wallow in my own thoughts about how I had failed my own brother.

Malcolm always chattered. His incessant ramblings never left the house, and even at my young age, I had dreamed of a house with peaceful silence.

I had gotten my wish.

I never had hated anything more than silence.

The house was left empty. No smiles filled it up. He never could attempt to pry me from my amenity of the background.

He was just...gone.

All that was left was me, and a question.

Did they ever wish that I had died instead of him? Had the thought ever fluttered through their minds whenever I was being difficult? Whenever the panic attacks wracked at my body after his visit, did they even consider the possibility that there was something more?

If it had been me in that car would anyone else notice my disappearance?

Yes. Of course they would. I was their only daughter, and of course they would grieve. But for how long? Malcolm could've filled my absence better than I could've filled his. I scarcely left a trace in that house. It would be easy to reduce me to nothing but mere scribbles in the sand.

But then Percy showed up, and everything changed.

Overcast skies opened with rain.

My grip tightened around the plastic bags as we walked along the edge of the parking lot, sneakers splashing into the puddles that had formed due to the heavy rainfall. I had to pick up my pace to keep stride with my quick mother, desperate to get away from the overwhelming crowd that had formed in the store. We hurriedly made it to the car, briskly loading the groceries into the back of the trunk. I lifted the stretchy material from the cart, passing them along to my silent and brooding mother. Once finished, Athena slammed the door to it, brushing a wisp of curly hair that had fallen into her dark grey eyes. The sky continued to sprinkle, dark clouds never fading nor resisting. It was odd to get this much rain in New York, but I didn't mind much. I savored it more than sunshine because of its rarity. At the closing noise, I made my way to the passenger's side and climbed inside. Breathless, I chafed my hands together in an attempt to warm up. My mother cranked the heat, and I relished in it. I had always hated the cold. Hot, steamy days were more my forte. I shrugged off my jacket, draping it over the back of my seat.

"Please don't unbuckle," Athena explained quietly as she took her seat, anxiety possessing her usually stoic features. "Okay?"

I nodded, drawing images on the frost-bitten window. I knew it had something to do with Malcolm and the accident. She was bringing that up more and more now. Years ago, she wanted to completely avoid the subject. Now, as we began to lose his memory, the very sound of his voice, she wanted to grasp onto his presence as much as possible. She even considered donating some of his things and cleaning out his bedroom, something she had forbidden a long time ago. "Sure." At my words, her shoulders relaxed significantly.

We pulled out of the store. She took the drive slowly, overly careful, something that was unusual.

"You know," she started in a low tone. "I don't often ask you to come to the store with me."

I gritted my teeth, continuing to draw. I had expected this. Athena wasn't a very close person. She was caring, but distant, stubborn and narrow-minded. If something was her opinion, then nothing would change it. She scarcely approved of anything I did because of how traditional she had been raised. I'll admit that my coldness as a child had slowly pushed her away and drew a barrier between us. I wouldn't dismiss that I hadn't done anything to influence our rocky relationship, because I had. The countless _"my name is Annabeth" _ had always echoed through my mind. It was still difficult growing up because of her. She didn't really listen to me, nor take care of me. My mother had been too busy sobbing over a photograph of my brother, not that I blamed her. I understood her more as a teenager. Of course she had been heartbroken. Of course it had taken her a while to learn how to take care of me again. It still had scarred me. I viewed it as a betrayal rather than an act of human emotion.

"You've been really quiet lately. You don't come down to dinner anymore."

This sounded all too familiar.

Her grey eyes flashed with worry. "Not that I don't understand, because I do. I know you're a teenager and you want space. I can't help but think that..."

There was a brief pause.

"Did something happen?"

I finally turned to meet her eyes, keeping my face impassive. "Like what?" _PercykissedmePercykissedmePercykissedmeIkissedPercy._

"Like anything," she admitted, eyes pleading and searching.

I twisted my fingertips, biting down on my lip. I knew she could tell I was troubled; she always had been able to. Could I even tell her? There was no knowing how she would react. Would she separate us? Would her expression change into a mask of pure horror, or of pure amusement? My mother was an unpredictable women, and I had no way to prepare myself. Still. I could feel the words bubbling near my mouth, threatening to overflow and spill out. I imagined the relief of someone finally knowing. I hadn't even mentioned our kiss to Thalia. She would gloat and say 'I told you so' a million times, something my pride didn't want anytime soon.

"Annabeth? You can tell me anything."

The words felt like ice in my mouth, suffocating and freezing the back of my throat. My chest welled up as the truth bubbled up to the surface. I spat the sentence out quickly, keeping the full idea masked by my teeth. "What do you do when you like a guy?"

Her face was incredulous, full of bewilderment. "What? Did you just say what I think you said?"

I heaved a deep breath, recollecting my panic and shutting it off from my mouth. "What do you do when you like a guy?"

The effect was almost immediate. Her tense shoulders relaxed. She placed a single hand on her heart in respite, exhaling slowly. I blinked at her in surprise, eyebrows slowly drawing together in confusion. She wasn't the tense, worried mother I had seen several seconds ago. Her stern frown disappeared, replaced by a sullen easement. She turned the wheel, sharply pulling the small car past a few careened buildings. I could hear the honks from outside the car, not at all deterred from the radio blaring my mother's newest romantic audiobook. "Thank god, Annie." I didn't even bother correcting her this time, far too surprised to break in. "I was expecting it to be drugs or sex. Not...not this at all." Her lips pulled into a grateful smile, and my parted lips morphed into a scorned scowl.

Drugs or sex? What did she think I did with my spare time? I let out an agitated huff, slumping down further in my seat and crossing my arms. I planted my gaze permanently out the window, watching the clouds gather together in the distance. "Forget it."

She shook her head frantically at my venomously choked out words. "I didn't mean it like that, Annabeth. I was just expecting it to be much worse than it was. You looked so guilty the past few days." Did I? My expression was always stone cold, wasn't it? My mother smiled down at me, more excited than I had ever seen her. "A boy, huh? I figured this day was going to eventually come. What's he like? Cute? Smart? Athletic?" Her rants ceased once she saw the disgruntled look swimming in my grey eyes. "Okay, okay. This is really bothering you, isn't it?"

I nodded, lowering my head. There was no way I was going to tell her the boy I liked was Percy.

She touched my shoulder, and I nearly leaned into her touch. "What's going on, sweetie?" I could count on one hand how many times she referred to me as 'sweetie'. I didn't know whether or not that was a good thing or a bad one.

I swallowed down the lump in my throat. "I dunno. I like him, but I'm not supposed to."

"Does he have a girlfriend?" I could tell she was attempting to sound serious and concerned, but there was overlaid humor drenched behind her tone of voice. That only furthered towards my agitation. She didn't know the whole story. She barely knew anything about me. I wasn't blaming my mother for her innocence of my situations, but it hardly seemed fitting that she could judge when her ignorance masked my past. "Annabeth?" Through my shut eyes, I felt my shoulder being nudged.

"Something like that," I forced out.

The car skidded to a halt, pausing in front of the house. My mother reached over and hugged me, hands firmly around the nape of my neck. I couldn't find the willpower to push away, nor could I find the right words to explain that it just wasn't any boy, but Percy Jackson-Chase. Her son. My brother. As the years flew by with flashes, the more times I called Percy my brother, the more nauseous and revolted I felt. I broke the hug shortly after, tilting my head and glancing out the window. Thalia and Percy were sitting on the porch, appearing to anxiously await my arrival. Tears clouded my vision at the sight of him, so I glanced back at my mother with jittery nervousness. She pushed the gear into park, smiling kindly at me, completely oblivious to the veering relationship surrounding her.

"How about tomorrow I pick out your outfit?" I appreciated the gesture, but I doubted that could fix my problem. "Maybe even a little makeup. I could even curl your hair a little more if you'd like. That would probably capture his attention."

The idea of Percy gawking at me made my heart race a little faster, though I'd never admit that.

"Not happening, mom."

My mother, on the other hand, looked completely ecstatic that I was even acknowledging her very existence. Before she could open her mouth to praise me, I slid from the car.

"Annie!" Her protests were loud and commanding from the opened car. "Help me with these groceries!"

In reply, I slammed the door shut.

My sneakers splashed in the muddy puddles as I approached the two. Thalia's laughing words were silenced, and Percy looked up at me with wide eyes. He was beginning to stare at me more like that. Big and green, sad yet pleading. And even through all those flittering emotions that splashed across his irises, he managed to look vibrant. I always fidgeted under that stare. It was full of longing, so I just pretended that it wasn't.

I had enjoyed the kiss, if I could even call it that. It was short and trembling, but our lips had touched. His were warm and confident, while mine wobbled with nerves. It seemed my entire short-lived life had been awaiting that one singular moment, and the second it happened, I could only cherish it for moments before the dread had settled in. His black hair was tangled and air-brushed, while Thalia's was streaked a vivid purple. I couldn't keep my eyes on her because they seemed locked on Percy and that...stare. His eyes seemed to tell me a million things that he couldn't say himself, and I hoped that mine couldn't. Because then he would know that I wanted him to embrace me again, and a few other things that I couldn't dare mentioning. That kiss had signified a lot, causing the impact to be greater than I ever thought it to be.

It had ruined our brother-sister relationship, although I wasn't quite sure if we had ever achieved that. All I knew is that whatever we had prior to the kiss, it had been completely obliterated.

"Hey," I breathed, my gaze never breaking from his.

Percy looked pale, but a small smile twitched at his lips. "Hi."

So maybe I had been avoiding him. Could you blame me?

Thalia frowned at both of us in puzzlement. "Why are you being weird?"

"Why are you being weird?" I shot back. Her nose crinkled in irritation as she averted her eyes to the large building across the street with an exaggerated 'humph.' I let out a sigh, taking a seat on the porch next to Thalia. "Never mind. What are you doing here?"

Her crossed arms relaxed, hanging off near her sides. She stretched out her combat boots, splashing them gently in a puddle that was beginning to form at the edge of it. This time they were golden laced, but black leather made it tough. "I'm inviting both of you to a party. A high school party."

My eyebrow raised. "A party?"

Thalia wasn't one for parties. That was the first reason I had known that something was up with her. She didn't usually consider such 'teenage-ish' activities. She deemed them pointless and pathetic. All high school parties (without adult supervision) consisted of was spiked punch, getting drunk, fawning over shirtless guys, and dancing to crappy, blaring music. The bodies were too crushing and sweaty, and the girl's wore outfits far above their age level. There was grinding, drug abuse, _plenty _of alcohol, and everything that lingered revoltingly in between.

"Yes, Annabeth. I know the word 'party' isn't in your vocabulary, but deal. You're going."

It was my turn to be disconcerted. "You hate parties, Thals."

Her expression hardened when I called her out, another sign that I was right. "Not anymore. Percy already agreed to back me up." There was a pause, something that I been awaiting impatiently. "Will you?"

I stole a look at Percy, who was watching our conversation evolve intently. His eyes widened slightly when he caught glimpse of my look, and he turned away, the tips of his ears flashing a crimson red like a neon light. "Fine."

Before I could even open my mouth to protest further, Thalia had already ventured across our lawn towards her own home. She bounded, the pace of her step overly confident and airy. My eyes narrowed at her in humiliation. Why did she always have to win in our arguments? Thalia turned around, as if feeling my rusty daggers burning into her back, and smirked smugly. I let out a scoff, my sneakers bounding back up the stairs to the doorway. Percy called out my name as I stepped across the threshold, and I glanced back questioningly. "What?"

"I, uh," he stammered. I didn't think he had expected me to respond. "Er, I think we need to talk."

There was a tense silence. Rain droplets fell from the sky behind him. He seemed to be holding his breath. Percy searched at my face, so I let my curls fall down around me like a shielding curtain. I didn't want him to know how I felt. I _really _didn't want to know what he felt. Specifically for me. Because if he thought that there was even a sliver of hope between us, well...I wouldn't know what to do then.

"I don't think we do." I opened the door, but froze when he spoke again.

"Please, Annabeth?" He was begging now, and my face twisted up in guilt. "I miss us talking. I miss watching those late night comedy shows with you. I guess I just miss you, Wise Girl."

I saw him in the reflection. His green eyes were hopeful, while his face looked stone. His eyebrows were scrunched together in disbelief, mouth pulled half ajar. I swallowed hard, watching my face mirror the one in the glass door. Only this time I didn't see Malcolm and me. I just saw Percy. The way his green eyes lit up whenever the TV started one of his favorite television shows, or whenever my mother announced that we were going to the beach. I saw the way he grew upset, his jaw clenching first, then the sadness clashing with the effervescent that always vacillated in his sea-green eyes. I just saw him. I couldn't decide why (but I had a pretty good idea) and it bothered me, making my stomach churn. I slowly walked backward, clicking the door shut.

"So talk."

Excitement pulled at his boyish features. "Take a walk with me?" It was a suggestion, but I could tell it was his last stand.

I brushed a stand of hair behind my ear. "It's raining."

"Drizzling," he corrected. "Besides, it looks like it might clear up."

I looked up at the grey clouds. The sun was beginning to peek through the thin layers, and the rain was slowing. "Fine. Let's go to the playground."

Victorious, Percy began down the driveway. He paused at the edge, waiting eagerly for me to catch up. A small smile broke through my features, heart pounding daringly against my ribcage, and I followed. My mother, who was in the midst of struggling with heavy bags of groceries, glared at us.

"Some help would be nice," she called.

Percy was the only one that tuned in. "Sorry, mom. We're busy." He smiled at her, a grateful one. "You could always ask dad."

My mother raised her hand to say something further, but seemed to think better of it. Eventually she just huffed and trudged up to the doorway, her flats walking along the pavement and two bags hanging near the ends of her sleek skirt. I chewed on my lip, wondering what exactly he was going to say. Which was fruitless. While my father and Thalia were always easy to predict, Percy was as predictable as an ocean; vast and uncontrollable.

Percy's hand brushed up against mine, and I nearly stopped my footing. I gave him a sideways glance, curious and nervous. Was that accidental? Was that little, minuscule touch on purpose? I nearly cursed aloud. I wished he didn't have such an effect on me. With my heart nearly jumping up to my throat, I glided my hand to his. Why? No idea. My brain didn't appear to be working properly. I let my fingertips brush against his knuckles, then pulled it away abruptly in shock. My cheeks burned, while Percy appeared rattle by my action. Both blushing, we kept doing this little action until we reached the park. Neither of us had enough confidence to finally slide our hands together, intertwining our fingers in an act that symbolized something a lot more than just friendship.

The rain was just gentle droplets, occasional splashes causing my cheeks to grow pale. I stuffed my hands into my pockets, silently taking a seat next to Percy on the swing set. The blue plastic was a tad wet, but I wasn't really bothered by it.

"What do you want to talk about?"

The words stopped in his throat, and when they finally came out, they sounded shrill and shaky. "The, uh, kiss."

Another silence.

This time I was the one who broke it. "I want to forget about it."

"I-"

"Percy." I turned towards him, sensing the protest on the tip of his tongue. "What good could possibly come from remembering it?" I tried to keep my voice indifferent, but a flicker of emotion leaked into it.

Percy was confused. I didn't blame him. I couldn't. I was probably as puzzled as he was. There was a certain confusion with loving something (someone) you could never possibly have. There was also a certain pain, but we didn't have to go into that.

"Like it never happened," he challenged, green eyes flashing in sarcasm.

I raked my fingers through my hair, trying to keep my temper. "Look," I exclaimed tensely. "I don't want to have this conversation. It was just in the heat of the moment. You're my brother. I'm your sister. It's time to move on."

"Is that your opinion or theirs?" he questioned, beginning to sound angry. "Put aside the fact that legally we're siblings. What would your answer be then?"

_Yes, Annabeth. _That voice that sounded like my brother's echoed through my mind. _What would your answer be? Quit lying to him and tell the truth. _I gritted my teeth in frustration. What horrible things have I done to get my older brother as a conscience? "I don't know," I admitted, allowing my curls to slip through the openings between my fingers. "That still doesn't change anything."

"Just stop!" he yelled, and I flinched, the rest of my sentences dying. I was taken aback by how truly broken he sounded. He let out a shaky breath, gathering himself before continuing. "You're not listening to me. We need to talk."

"Yes, we've already established that. Isn't that what we're doing now?"

"No," Percy retorted. "We're not talking; we're arguing."

So many silences were intermingled with our words.

"What are you asking of me?" I finally questioned, unable to take the pauses any longer.

His mouth fell open. His eyes looked pained as they darkened to a burning, acid green. His head tilted away from mine, and another gust of air blew from his chapped lips. I pursed mine together tightly, my legs making little movements to rock gently back and forth on the swing. My hand clasped the cold metal twisting, and my grey eyes fell back to his, wondering when he was going to speak again.

"You-" I began, but stopped myself.

He was looking at me again. In _that _way. The way he had looked at me before his lips captured mine. Suddenly flustered and breathless, I let out a raspy sigh. My heart was throbbing loudly. The cool air suddenly seemed too hot to bear. When exactly had I become so infatuated with Percy? I'd gone over this question so many times in my mind that I lost count, but I was still left without a clear answer.

It had just...happened.

_"You're brother is so hot!" _Silena had fawned when she saw Percy for the first time, her blue eyes widening. Katie had looked over shortly after her comment, and they both began to giggle and gawk like he was some kind of object rather than a human being. Since it was said so casually in the middle of the kitchen, I had simply smiled and nodded to go along with their gushing. I was only in sixth grade, and Percy was as scrawny as ever. We were about the same height around then, but he was still that same Seaweed Brain that had become my best friend. Silena's words grew to bother me later on when I realized just how _right_ she had been. Perhaps that's when it had started. The way the rooms grew too warm to stand whenever he stood close, or the way I couldn't glance into his eyes without melting a little. Immature and stupid of me, but true.

No.

That was definitely the day I began to look at Percy in a..._different _way.

Percy closed his eyes, his face burning more than mine. "_I like you, Annabeth_!" I straightened and shot backward in my seat, the chain rattling against the copper pole holding up the set. Percy's jaw was sharply set, and his raven bangs fell over his eyes, completely masking his expression from my view.

"I like you," he repeated. "A lot. I know it's stupid and wrong, but I have a crush on you! And I've had one for, like, forever!" His hands shook as he finally looked at me, waiting and watching for my reaction. My breathing rapidly increased, and my eyes widened significantly. He seemed to take my sudden fear as an upfront and plain rejection. He recoiled, as if burned by my stare, and hung his head in shame. Tears seemed to threaten to overspill in his eyes, and I felt something heavy settle into my stomach.

"I'm sorry, Annabeth." His voice broke. "I understand if you hate me. I know that our kiss didn't mean much to you, but it...meant something to me. I've tried to ignore the feeling like I promised myself I would, tried to move on, but I couldn't. Grover thought I should tell you, so I did."

The lump kept rising painfully in my dry throat. "B-but Rachel...? I thought you liked Rachel..."

I allowed my voice to cave in and trail off, my eyes pricking with overwhelmed tears.

"I don't think I like her _that way_."

My fist clenched in my lap, vision blurring. "Percy, I _can't_."

"How do you think of me?"

I swiped at my eyes.

"I don't want you to keep pushing me away."

I smothered a whimper behind my hand.

The sun was shining through the sky.

_Let him in. _

_Just let him in._

_Stop running. _

_..._

_..._

_"Don't tell your parents what happened, okay?" _

_..._

_..._

I pushed myself up, feet standing shakily on the earthy surface. "Percy, I'm sorry. You're like my brother. I don't think of you that way."

I couldn't read his expression this time. It was filled with a spectrum of different feelings- hurt, anger, annoyance, sorrow, regret- -he was unreadable. Eventually, he just sighed. It was a defeated one. I couldn't even imagine the courage he had to work up to be able to tell me that. "Forget I ever said anything," he stated. I looked at him in surprise. His green eyes were calm, but they weren't shattered like before. "You're right. I don't even know if I really do like you." He laughed nervously. "It's just some stupid school boy crush. I'm sure it'll pass."

"Percy-" I reached out to him, but to do what? To kiss him? Out of the question. To hug him? I didn't want to make him feel worse than he already did.

He veered away from me, brushing my attempts off. "Really, Annabeth. It's fine. I don't know why I said what I said." I swallowed when I saw him caressing his mother's necklace, the skin around his knuckles white. He stood up to face me, straining a smile. "We good?"

"Yeah. We're good."

We were anything but _good. _

Our talk had slammed us together while simultaneously tearing us apart.

And it came along with a message, one that was said in my actual brother's voice. _It's never going to be the same, Annie. _

_Yeah, _I thought back sadly as I watched Percy fiddle with his necklace. _I know. _

All that was left was me, how badly I had just wounded Percy, and a question.

Did _I_ ever wish that I had died instead of Malcolm?

The sinking feeling in my chest gave me that answer.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ohmygodsthischapterwassohardtowritesakjdfaslkjk;adfsjkkldfskjl! Stop it, Annabeth! Keep your emotions together, bruh. Seriously. They're flying all over the place. Sorry for the long wait, but this chapter was really challenging for me to bring together. All my thoughts were scrambled, (*cough* Annabeth's *cough*) so I had to turn them into actual sentences. Poor Percy. ****I do think Annabeth is kinda being a jerk-face, but then again, she is just scared. **

**Mockingjay: I went to see it with my dad, and it was a little boring. Not boring-boring, but less action and more character/plot development to set up the next one. I liked it. When I read the books, I didn't picture Peeta and Johanna looking as bad as they made them seem in the movie, so it was really upsetting for me. **

**Ps. Prim's going to have a _blast_ in part 2.**

**Pss. Okay, that was too mean. Please disregard the last Ps.**

**Thanks for reaching past 200 reviews!**

**But... more reviews make me happy!**


	11. Chapter Ten

**A Thousand Years:**

**Percy's P.O.V:  
>Chapter Ten:<strong>

"I'm sorry, man," Grover sympathized, his doe eyes heavy. "I really thought that she liked you."

"It's okay," I replied, (although it wasn't really okay) and adjusted my laptop so that the Skype chat was less blurry. His features focused again, flashing off the red hair that stuck out from beneath his orange hat. I didn't usually speak to him over the computer, but because of the emotions swirling inside of me, I decided I needed some input. Any comforting words I would take, but in reality, I just wanted someone to take the embarrassment away. "I just can't believe that I made a fool out of myself."

Grover shook his head at that. "You didn't make a fool out of yourself. You said what you needed to say. If she doesn't like you back, then fine. At least it's off your chest and you finally know where you stand."

My index finger brushed against the necklace hidden beneath my shirt. "That's the problem, G-man. I think I might've just complicated things even more."

"Just don't bring it up again. Forgive and forget, that's my motto."

I couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Yeah, I can tell."

"What?" he protested, bringing his hands up in defeat. "I don't like conflict." There was a clatter in the background, nosily echoing off the speakers embedded in the laptop. He turned his head after yelping, only to let out a relieved sigh when he caught glimpse of his mother stepping across the threshold to his messy bedroom. "I gotta go, Perce. Sorry we couldn't talk more."

"It's cool."

Grover gave a little awkward wave and the screen went blank, leaving me alone with my thoughts. _Forgive and forget_ seemed to bounce in my mind, permanently established. But what if I couldn't? Heaving a sigh, I clobbered up with my homework and made my way downstairs. I couldn't hide in here forever. I had to face her. If we didn't live together, perhaps I could've avoided her, but this made it impossible. I swallowed anxiously before stepping into the room, my heart jumping up to my throat. If she seemed startled or upset by my abrupt appearance, she didn't show it.

I sat down across the room from her, planting all my pencils and books on the coffee table.

There was a sharp flip of pages, so hasty that I couldn't help but glance up in surprise.

I glanced up at Annabeth, her grey eyes trailing along the words, lips pressed into a thin line of concentration. I swallowed down (whatever feeling that had washed over me) and returned to my own homework. My orbs fell down to the printed words, acknowledging the instructions but not really processing them. I read the same sentence over and over, while my thoughts were overwhelmed with the humiliating event that had just occurred hours ago. The pen in my hand twirled, and I bit back the sentences that threatened to burst from my mouth. The _whys_ and _hows_ didn't seem to matter now, not after she had been completely honest with me. That's all I had ever wanted from her; the truth. Not the lies and complicated deceits, nor the smile that she plastered every day of her life, the happy grin one that everyone knew wasn't real. I wanted her real smile, that rare one that made her mouth look too large for her face. I wanted her eyes to light up and sparkle with contentment rather than trepidation. Most importantly, I wanted her to rip off that mask she scarcely crept from.

She had told me exactly how she felt. That _she didn't feel the same way_ and that _I was like a brother to her_. My hand balled into a painful fist, and I chewed on my bottom lip angrily, almost like it could shield myself from the rejection that was still burning endlessly. I had gotten hurt a lot in my life, but this was the most fueled. Never had I been spurned my affections by the one person that I cared about the most. It appeared like a rapid wild fire that seemed nowhere near slowing down.

Another page turned, paper crinkling. A soft sigh tumbled from her pink lips, blonde curls resting tentatively on her shoulders. They weren't crazed and frizzy like before, but tamed and slicked down from a hair brush she had run through it.

"Percy?"

I didn't hear her.

"Percy?" she repeated. My name spoken in her worried voice clashed into my fogged mind, and I looked upward in confusion and surprise. While she flipped through her textbook, my pen consistently echoed off the outer oak of the brown desk. My fingers ran along the names scratched into it. _Percy and Annabeth_. We had done that when we were twelve, and Athena had grounded us for a week. Her grey eyes were troubled, and she kept toying with the strings that had frayed from her shirt in thin strips of material. "Are you alright?"

Mutely, I nodded. The pen kept its clicking.

"You sure?"

"Hmm," I replied, my mop of raven hair brushing up against my forehead. Through the wisps of black tendrils, her eyes looked pained. I watched her hesitate, lips parting, and she shifted in the chair she was resting in uncomfortably. It looked like she longed to say something, perhaps comforting words, but that would only make it worse. It would make me feel more like a kicked puppy rather than a boy that hadn't gotten the girl. And did I ever really deserve her in the first place? I wanted to tell her that I didn't blame her for the raging emotions that were whirling inside of me, but there was a small part of me that did. A guiltier part, but a slim shard that contained a small grudge nonetheless. I didn't want to ever tell her in the first place. I wasn't sure if my feelings for her were genuine or faux, but whatever the reason, I had told her. I confessed to her everything that had been bothering me since the moment I had crossed the threshold to this house all those years ago. I had told her everything...and she just brushed it aside, like it wasn't even relevant.

"I'm sorry," she finally whispered.

I didn't know how to answer to this, so I didn't. I just kept capping and uncapping the pen, pretending to be enthused in whatever school work had been assigned days ago. The book slammed shut without any warning. I flinched at that, but continued to remain impassive. If she could be like an empty piece of stone, so could I. Two could play at that game, and I was fed up with the ping-pong matches that always transpired between us.

She set the book aside when I played mute. Yet again, it made a 'thunk' type sound that echoed around the empty room. It wasn't angry, but full of frustration and hopelessness.

"I thought we were good," Annabeth admitted softly, uncurling from her position on the chair. Her feet rested on the carpeting, eyes pleading. "You told me we were good." I didn't like how her tone sounded; all accusing and brandish, like it was my fault we were going through such an awkward phase.

_Why did you kiss me if you didn't like me? _I wanted to scream.

But I didn't. I held it all in, because that's exactly what she would've done.

"We are," I replied quietly.

After that, all I could hear was the roaring of the wind that whistled from the outside. She gathered her completed homework together, and walked off, but left the book there. At her departure, a brew of disappointment and relief settled in an odd mixture inside of me. I couldn't place whether or not this relationship we had was toxic and poisonous, or misunderstood and beautiful. I wasn't sure if I wanted to, far too fearful to what the answer might be.

There was a time when we enjoyed each other's company.

Or at least, I had.

Did she ever?

. . .

Dinner was a quiet event. Fredrick tried to make joking conversation, but Annabeth remained stoic. I stayed silent, allowing my brain to mull over everything that was puzzling me. I wanted us to be good. I really did. I just wasn't sure if we could ever get that back. Athena cut up her steak, watching us both through penetrating eyes. Eventually, as the tension droned on, she dropped the silverware down. They clattered on the table, and everyone gazed up at her. Mrs. O' Leary, who was half-asleep on the floor beneath us, tilted her head up in surprise.

"Okay, I've had it." She folded her hands, lacing her fingertips together. "What's going on?" Annabeth tensed, while I shifted uneasily. Both of our eyes lingered on our foods or the floor, whichever was more convenient.

Fredrick looked puzzled, eyebrows drawing together. "What do you mean, dear?"

"Oh." The hint of sarcasm was evident in her voice as her blonde curls titled to the right. "They know." She pointed a fork at me, eyebrow raising. It was like she was delivering me a secret message, one that the others couldn't possibly decipher. I vaguely remembered her insinuation that she dropped in days and days ago. _"And I do know how much you love Annabeth."_ She had spoken those words so tantalizing and restrained, almost as if she wanted to get a rise from me and maintain her innocence at the same time. Nervously, I tried to avoid her questioning look by shoving a spoonful of corn into my mouth. I only discovered that the steam rising from it meant that it was _hot_. I let out a choked cry, spluttering. I was sure I made all sorts of attractive faces as my tongue blistered. I frantically grabbed at the water, chugging it down, and efficiently cooling my mouth. They all stared.

Annabeth snickered, stifling her chortles by ripping off a small piece of bread and stuffing it between her chapped lips. A small coating of butter stuck to her cheek, and she rubbed it off with a napkin.

I shot her a glare, but an embarrassed blush was rising up my cheeks and to the tip of my ears.

Athena rolled her eyes, but her hardened look had shattered like glass. I knew she hated not knowing things. Whether it be what we were getting her for Christmas or something simple like the temperature. Even more so when someone knew the answer but refused to tell her it. Annabeth was similar in that department. They were both know-it-alls, always longing for more information. "Careful, Percy," she lectured half-heartedly, a smile fighting its way up to the surface of her lips. "It's hot."

"Now I can see why Annabeth calls you Seaweed Brain," Fredrick stated innocently shortly afterwards, fixing his glasses. There was tape plastered in the middle, holding the brown plastic together clumsily. Annabeth laughed harder at that. My glare deepened, but it didn't really signify anything. I was just glad the iciness between us had melted- even if it just was by a little.

"So," Athena cleared her throat. "Are you two arguing?"

And just like that, the melted water began to freeze up.

"No," Annabeth dismissed easily, reaching for another piece of white bread. "We actually want to ask you something."

I glanced at her curiously. Her eyes read _let me handle this. _

Fredrick wiped his mouth, while Athena took a small sip of her drink. "Oh?"

"Yeah," she confirmed. "Percy and I were invited to a party."

"Okay," Fredrick said casually, blue eyes vivid and childlike. "I don't see an issue with that. Whose birthday is it?"

Athena looked at him in disbelief, lips twisting into a small smirk of sarcasm. "It's not anyone's birthday, idiot."

Fredrick soured at that.

Athena's eyes glimmered with vibrant mischief, lips tugging upward. However amused she seemed, the disapproval to this was evident on her features that so resembled Annabeth's. She shot her husband a meaningful look while Annabeth sat straightened in her chair, a victorious expression on her face. I wanted to ask her why she destroyed our chances of going, but never got the chance to. "They're asking to go to a party," our mother clarified. "A high school party."

My fingers ran along the indentation of my mother's necklace. I wondered what she would say to all this, and what she would think. Would Sally ban me from going? Would she accept the fact that I was getting older and allow me to? Would I be reduced to shimmying down the fire escape on our apartment? I didn't know, and I never would. These were the things that caused me to miss her. While parenting was being fulfilled by someone else, two people that I loved just as much as my mother, I still couldn't help but ask questions I would never receive the answers to.

I could practically see images of shirtless boys hitting on Annabeth and booze getting sloshed around in Fredrick's eyes, which all of a sudden, darkened at the mention. "No way," he finally declared, amenity laced in his tone. "They're only children! And Annabeth," his voice stammered at the mention of his pure daughter. "What about her? They'll be boys there. Perverse boys way too old for her." I had to admit, the idea didn't settle very well in my stomach either. "What could possibly go wrong? Beer. Spiked punch. Drugs. Grinding." He pointed accusingly at his wife. "And date-rape drugs. Don't forget that. I read an article about that." Throughout his rant, he blanched until there was no color left in his skin.

Athena held up her hands. "Relax. I don't support this."

He let out a breathy sigh. "Oh, thank God." He then stole a withering look at Annabeth. "Please promise me never to go to those parties until you're twenty. No, make it forty. Or sixty. Boys like that have no interest in elderly women. Unless they're into kinky-"

"_Fredrick."_

He turned to Athena, who was scowling. "Yes, dear?"

"Relax."

"I am relaxed," he protested.

I snorted.

She turned to us. "What time is this party?"

"Tonight," she replied. "Thalia is taking us."

"Are you actually considering this?" Fredrick asked in a somewhat strangled and shrill voice. Athena ignored him.

"And Percy's going too?"

"Yep," she replied cheerfully. I didn't know how this little detail would help our case, but apparently it did. The only thing she seemed hesitant about was that Thalia was going as our chafer. Fredrick cleared his plate, his panicked argument already fading, but still grumbling about how we were both going to come back later hammered out of our minds. "Besides, Thalia'll take good care of us. When has she ever not?"

Annabeth made a good point. As irresponsible as Thalia looked and seemed, she did everything in her power to keep us out of harm's way. When we were younger, she returned us to Athena without even more than a scratch or bruise. Before I started truly viewing the Chase's as family, Thalia was the closest thing I had to a mother during the turbulent transition into adoption. As much as I wanted to confide in Annabeth for all my troubles back in the foster program, she just didn't understand. Thalia did. She got it. She knew of abuse and mental torment. She knew of sleeping on playgrounds and living off the streets. She's still seeing what I saw to this very day, and I honestly couldn't comprehend that. My body was still scarred with burns of a cigarette, and constant memories of torture would forever be embedded in my mind. The memories were foggy and distant now, all thanks to the Chases. I didn't know what would've happened if I hadn't met Annabeth on that summer day.

Athena opened her mouth to deny Annabeth's statement, but when she realized when she couldn't, her lips pursed together. "Fine."

"Fine?" Annabeth and I exclaimed in unison, with the addition of Fredrick.

"You may go _if_," she enunciated this word, making it clear to follow her conditions. "You follow a curfew of ten, and you stick together. Which means Percy doesn't leave your side, Annabeth, and vise-versa."

I shrugged, but my heart did that weird flip-flop thing it often did whenever Annabeth was going to be near my side. It just felt...right.

After I handed my plate to my mother, I exited the room, Annabeth in tow behind me. Instantly, her face morphed from contentment into worry.

I walked up the stairs, very aware of her footsteps nearly colliding with my ankles. I couldn't help the annoyance that crept up on me. After being near her all day long, pretending that everything was alright, I just needed some time to be alone. I felt comfort in solitude, and I needed to think and figure out which way was up and which way was down before I faced her normally again. I learned very early along today that I couldn't bottle up my emotions like she did. I had to face them, or else I would erupt.

Once we were at a farther distance away, and she seemed to not falter with following me, I turned to face her. "What?"

Her eyes filled with hurt, and only then did I realized how angrily I had forced it out. "Sorry," I apologized, stuffing my hands into my jean pockets.

"We're not good," she eventually said. "I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that."

Her eyes flashed with something unrecognizable. "Well, it's true, isn't it? I hurt you. Stop pretending like I didn't."

"I'm not pretending anything," I proclaimed confidently, but my voice wavered a little.

"You are," stated Annabeth in a breathy whisper. "I don't want you to pretend."

"Why not?" I countered in a hiss. "You always do."

It was a low blow and childish, but all I wanted was to dump all of my frustration onto her. She was the very reason I was confused and upset. While I knew I couldn't blame her for the feelings that she arose in me, I did. I swallowed when her eyes narrowed, impenetrable and heated. She looked like she wanted to slap me. Thankfully, she didn't, but her jaw set into a firm scowl. "That's...different," she snapped. "I'm different."

"Look, Annabeth, I just need time to cool down. Can you give me that?"

She opened her mouth to say more, but in the end all she did was nod. "Of course."

Then I went into my room and slammed the door, pretending that her eyes weren't following me every step of the way.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Wowza. I suck. I'm sorry how crappy this chapter was. I know it was more of a filler than anything, but shit is gonna hit the fan in the next chapter. So excited for the next chappie. Anyways, this was the hardest chapter I've ever had to write for this story. Like, it took me six hours just to do this because I kept going on Instagram every time I got bored. **

**Thanks for all the reviews! **

**Ps. Death The Kid appreciates all the symmetrical reviews (If you got that reference, you rock even more)**


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